Download
by MissMary
Summary: It has been sixty years since the Cube downloaded itself into Sam's brain, and now he has found a possible way to create a new Cube. But Megatron thinks there is an easier way, and goes after Sam to try it...
1. Chapter 1

Download Chapter One

Sam looked at the apartment and nodded to himself. He lived in a separate apartment from the house, over the garage. Everything was in order and all the backup plans were up to date. He trotted down the stairs and paused to look at the house. It looks a lot like my parent's home, he mused.

The house did not show its special features. It was armored against anything that a Decepticon could throw at it; it had a basement that was a real bomb shelter, and it had its own generator, run by energon. The back yard had could be covered by a shield if the scanner found a threat. They lived on three acres in a small town where the closest neighbors were energon processing plants.

He and Mikaela had raised their three children here, and his daughter Poppy lived here now with her children. They were all in California on vacation now with Bumblebee as their ride and guardian. Bumblebee made him promise not to go far without Optimus or another Transformer ride. Sam walked over to the huge truck waiting for him and climbed in. "Morning, Optimus." He put the backpack on the seat beside him.

"It would be a better morning if you did not do this, Sam. Are you sure this is necessary?" Sam had wondered why Optimus volunteered to give him a ride. He sighed. Sometime in the last sixty years in which Sam accepted that his life would always be intertwined with the Transformers, Optimus had learned that repetition would sometimes get his human allies to actually listen to him, if only to make him stop. Sam had learned to deal with it a long time ago. He marshaled his arguments again.

"Yes, I'm sure. There's not going to be a better time. There's no current crisis. The kids and grandkids are all as settled as humans can get. The device is ready, and all the tests have gone well. And this is just the first trial, Optimus. I'm only going in for an hour to see if this works. If it does, then we'll go forward."

The engine started and the truck moved. "There is risk involved even in the trial."

Sam closed his eyes and sighed. The Autobots, one and all, got jittery anytime there was the least risk to their organic Cube. After Optimus Prime died defending Sam all those years ago, Sam promised himself that an Autobot was not going to die because Sam was selfish. "Look, I've known-all of us know- that all it takes is one bullet, one bad slip, one serious car accident, one freak of nature, and the ball gets tossed in the air about where the information goes. I've been looking for a more durable substitute ever since the Cube loaded me with this thing, and now there a chance to get all this back into something safer than my brain."

I could have a stroke, he thought, like Dad. I could start getting Alzheimer's, like Mom, or cancer, like Mikaela. I could have a heart attack, like Will. There could be another firefight coming from nowhere, like the one that killed Leo, or a terrorist that killed Simmons and the Twins. How Simmons would have hated getting killed by a normal human, if he had a chance to think before he died. That was unlikely, since the suicide bomber had been standing right next to him.

With an effort he dragged his mind off of all the deaths he had witnessed over the years. He looked out of the window as they went down the driveway, noting absently that Wheelie was mowing the grass. The little 'bot that attached himself to Mikaela all that time ago was the best servant anybody ever had. He learned to do housework and yard work, and had been a playmate to the children. He said the work was easy and fun compared to his prior drone work.

There was silence as the truck reached the road and slid into traffic. Flars whizzed by, flying more smoothly than the wheeled vehicles like Optimus' prefered alt mode ever managed. Sam watched them absently. He did not like the flars, though the kids loved them.

"You are much easier to communicate with than the last Cube," the Prime pointed out. Sam laughed. "That was not a joke. Once you learned to access the knowledge, you are much easier to deal with than an inanimate box. For one thing, you can defend yourself."

"It would be a little hard to upload me into your chest, true." There was a rumble from the engine- Optimus' laughter. "You remember how Will promised you that if he could get me for nine weeks, I would learn to defend myself as well as most humans?"

"You agreed."

"I sure did. It was a good idea, though I could have killed him that first month." During Sam's first college summer break, therefore, Will proceeded, with help from an amused Secretary of Defense, to plop Sam into boot camp at Parris Island without telling anyone where he sent their precious human Cube. Sam managed to survive, and then got whisked off to further weapons training. He remembered how relived the 'bots had been, after losing sight of him for nine weeks. His return to the base lifted morale for weeks. Bumblebee stayed miffed for over a month and pretended Will did not exist until Mikaela coaxed him out of his sulk.

Will, backed by Ironhide, nagged Sam to stay in shape. Sam still ran an obstacle course at least every other day, swam most days, and went to the firing range weekly. Bumblebee kept up with his schedule and bugged him if he fudged. "Anyway, the idea is to copy the information, not transfer it. It's a trial run. How much can happen in an hour?"

"I do not know, nor does anyone else. That is my concern. I know that accidents can happen, but they have been avoided thus far. There is no hurry. Let there be more research done first. Rachet says that he only needs a few more years to perfect the storage device he told you of, the one that would take the information should you die suddenly. Why not wait for that?"

Sam tried the door, which was locked. If he couldn't convince Optimus, the Prime was perfectly capable of sitting here for hours to talk him out of it, and keeping the doors locked while he was at it. A few more years to Optimus was twenty or more. The Autobots lived for centuries, barring death from accident or battle. Sam had learned to live with the loss of people he knew and respected from the war.

What really hurt was losing his father eight years ago, his mother nine, and Mikaela five years ago. He had existed in the last few years, not really living. The children tried but needed to deal with their children and their own busy lifes; the friends who survived the fighting retired and some of them gone.

He stayed busy with lots of worthwhile projects, working sixty to seventy hours a week. He worked to keep the numbness at bay. While he loved his robotic friends, they simply _were not human_. He felt cut off from life, empty and alone.

While his parents and the bots never had better than an uneasy relationship, Mikaela and Will had been just as close with them as he was now. Losing two human close to them from non-fighting causes made the bots afraid for the one most important to them. He just could not get through to them that being wrapped in cotton wool the way they wanted was as bad as eating too much sugar or not getting exercise. Thely only saw that he alone of their fragile human friends remained alive. In addition he held all thier history. They wanted to protect him from the word, and in the end he felt stifled.

"I'm going to be monitored from here to Sunday, Optimus," he said. "If the least little tale-tell goes off, they'll yank me out, and I'll dump the whole thing, promise. A decade is a long time for us, and I've carried this worry for six of them. Can you understand that I want that burden gone?"

This time the Prime was silent, before the door swung open. "I will wait for you."

It was the best Sam was going to get. He climbed out. "Give it about two hours before you call in the army," he said, joking.

"Agreed," the Prime said, not joking at all. Sam walked into the building.

While this might be an experiment, it was a medical experiment in a way, and that meant a medical exam. Sam undressed and waited while the nurse practitioner, a handsome young man with dark curly hair, soft brown eyes and a body of a runner, asked questions about his medical history and surgeries, about his nonexistent medicines and any drug or smoking past, about his family history. He reviewed the history, and looked at Sam again. He went over the name and date of birth again, then oddly enough asked for ID. Sam found his work ID and showed him, annoyed. "What's the problem?"

"I don't see how this can be you," the nurse blurted out. Sam looked at his work ID and saw his name was Jeremy. "You're in better shape than I am, and I'm a third your age. You don't look your age or anywhere near it. You don't have a wrinkle or an age mark anywhere."

Sam looked at him steadily and sadly. "I'm really Samuel James Witwicky. "

"Yes, sir. In that case, let me go over this consent with you."

He did, in detail. He emphasized the risk of losing touch with reality, of coma or death from stroke or heart attack. "I'm talking about these things happening to perfectly healthy young people,"Jeremy told him. "It has to do with brain damage. That means altogether there's somewhere about a five percent chance something can go wrong, or one in twenty."

"I understand that." Sam remembered everything he read in perfect detail now. He shifted in the hospital gown. Let's get this show on the road here. My butt's going numb on this table."

Jeremy discarded tact."Why are you doing this?"he asked bluntly.

"What I have in my head needs to be recorded and this is the only way to do it," Sam told him. Jeremy sighed and found a pen. Sam signed the consent and dated it. After putting the paper in a folder, the nurse led Sam to the next room.

The idea was to use a sensory deprivation tank to bring Sam into a state where the information in the Cube could surface and be recorded. Scalpel, who tried to take out his brain sixty years ago, was the only Transformer on either side that could access information directly from the mind. Sam discovered this means to find and transfer the Cube memories when looking for a means to build a better lie detector. That project remained unreleased because Sam and the bots kept debating the ethics involved.

Then an Autobot found the material to make another cube on a asteroid and harvested it at great risk to himself. The moment Sam heard of the find, he started working on the download project, abandoning others in his intense focus and frightening his Autobot friends. To downlead the information, Sam needed to enter a theta state, and to this end was climbing into a sensory deprivation tank.

Some of the risk came from the tank itself and some of it came from the machine. The tank would record every vital sign through the blue-ray chip in his body, one replaced every decade since the technology developed. The transmission device fit over his wrist like a watch.

In the peace of the tank, Sam fell into the meditation state that enabled him to access the Cube memories. As he submerged himself into nothingness, he felt the state where he remembered reach him. Images flowed and something more began to touch him, something familiar. No words, only pure information flowed into him, and he knew that this was the force that had been sustaining him at his peak condition.

Memories came as the information flowed, snapshots of joy and pain.

In the next room, the machine began to hum. Dr. Levi Spencer and two technicians stood over the machine and the screens. Before the session started, Jeremy went to Dr. Spencer and questioned Sam's state of mind. Instead of argueing, the white haired, plump researcher pulled out the psychological study already done, and showed it to the nurse. He chose Jeremy for this experiment because he showed an instinct for distress.

"What it boils down to," the researcher told Jeremy, "is that if he chooses to take this risk, it's his right." Jeremy nodded and went to his station in the room with the tank. There were two technicians with Dr. Spencer. Walter was a blond overweight man who looked like the geek he was, and worked with Dr. Spencer from the beginning of this project; Steelman had been on the team only a year, when the other tech got hit by a car. Dr. Spencer gave an inward sigh at the memory of the hit and run. Carl had been a good man and a personal friend. Steelman was good, but cold as a damned fish. He was short and balding, with bulging amber eyes that led Dr. Spencer to wonder more than once about the state of his thyroid.

"He's in the tank," Jeremy said, his voice clear on the linkup. "Everything is working, systems all go."

"When the hour's up, you go ahead and get him out," Dr. Spencer said. "Call for help if you need it, and call me if anything so much as hiccups."

Five minutes later, Jeremy called. "He's reached theta state already," he announced. Walter and Steelman sat up and punched buttons. They were just in time, as the screens lit up.

"Would you look at that?" Walter marveled. Dr. Spencer came over quickly. "What are those-things? Writing? I've never seen script like that before! And look! Not only is there script, there's images- those are memories!" The images went far too fast to really see, but they saw people in glimpses.

"Jeremy, any problems?" The speed of the theta state induction bothered Dr. Spencer. The answer was negative.

"We're getting the images from both screens, I think- if the machine can handle it. God, the speed!" Walter was almost quivering in excitement.

"This is going pretty fast," the researcher said, delight and concern warring in him. "Do you think we might overload the storage in an hour?"

"Is there any way to screen out the personal memories?" Steelman asked in his cold voice. He was intent. "That's an invasion of privacy, isn't it, and a waste of computer memory, when we need it for the other." The two other researchers gave him an odd look.

"It's covered by the release, and at this point we need to see how the recording goes before we mess with anything." Walter said pointedly, and turned his attention back to the screen. "It looks like the machine is handling the transmission just fine, and it looks like it's saving fine. What the hell is that script, though? "

There was a knock on Jeremy's door. He got up to open it. "Sorry, we're in the middle of testing-oh, it's you, Lester. Come in. "

"Fraid we ran into a problem with one of the folks with your project. That Steelman Smith? There's something wrong with his background checks. Will it hurt Sam to put him out if we need to?"

"As far as I know, the physical part is just the tank- no drugs or anything. You'll have to deal with Dr. Spencer, though " Jeremy's calm voice was at odds with the twisting of his stomach. Part of the reason he had been chosen for this assignment was that he was familiar with Sam and the Transformers but had never met Sam in person. He was good friends with Oscar, one of Sam's grandchildren, and when the assignment came open, Oscar's mother Poppy had sought him out.

"Dad's been pretty down since Mom died," she told him. "She was always his anchor to reality with all of the bots. I've tried, God knows I have, but nothing seems to bring him out of it. All he does is work, ever since Mom died." She bit her lip. "Look, Jeremy, it's a good assignment, and could give you a boost to any work you want if you want that. I'd take it as a favor if you'd make sure Dad's okay when all this goes down."

Jeremy was more than glad to do a favor for Poppy, who also happened to be the head of nursing at the local major hospital. Now that he'd met Oscar's grandfather, he wondered if it bothered Poppy that her father looked younger than she did. She was in decent shape for someone in her fifties, too. "Project's only supposed to last an hour," Jeremy told him, "and most of that's waiting for Sam to get into the right mental state."

"You don't know these bots when it comes to Sam," Lester said. "He's special to them, been in this since he was a teenager and they first came." Lester was a husky man, a prior Nest member whose age added a little bulk to his body but letft his mind sharp.

"A long time ago," Jeremy said.

"Considering he's twenty years older than me," Lester agreed. Jeremy gave him a quick glance. Lester looked to be in his late fifties, early sixties. So other people were noticing Sam's unusual good health, too. "So I'm telling you now. You keep that line open. If anything happens, you get him out of here and to the side door. We've got his friends there already. They'll get him to safety."

"He's got to get a shower and get dressed..." The salts in the bath were heavy enough to make a person float, and without a shower Sam would itch.

"Haul him out dripping and naked and he can hose down when he's safe. Unless you want the building ripped to pieces with everyone inside? Remember we're dealing with bots the size of houses here."

In the other room, Infiltrator watched the Cybertronian symbols race across one screen, and a blurred video across the other. It enraged him that the memories of one of the insects that crawled on this planet were being intertwined with the history of Cybertron, but he did not want to reveal himself yet. The Pretender knew he was doing a good job mimicking a mechanic of these machines.

For decades the Decepticons tried to get their hands on Sam Witwicky, if for no other reason than to get the Cube's knowledge from the Autobots. The plan was to keep the human Cube prisoner until a suitable repository for the information was found, then kill him so that the information would download where it should be. Infiltrator had to admit that a suitable container was never found, and in fact, it seemed that having an organic container made the information more accessible. With Scalpel, they could have harvested the brain and still accessed that information.

In fact, Megatron had everyone suitable looking for a way to keep the brain alive and let the body of the human die, but no luck. Then the news came that an Autobot had found more of the material the original Cube was made from. Sam Witwicky was driving the creation of a new Cube as fast as he could. Barricade killed the technician human called Carl after they had managed to create the Steelman Smith identity, and they managed to block or modify the search program for a replacement so that Steelman was the only suitable candidate for this position.

He gathered a tremendous amout of information, though much of it was not immediately useful and much of it was enraging. The humans made energon from their trash, the garbage of the insects. There was grim delight in the information that the close family members of Sam Witwicky died. Soon he would follow, and the information from the Cube would be in another inanimate Cube, with the Decepticons where it belonged.

But this would not happen quickly, thought Infiltrator as it watched the screens. Yes, the information was downloading at a fast rate for these inadequate human machines. He had been able to add modifications, so that the load was moving much faster than any other mechanism available to the humans. Yet there remained the organic limitation. The Cube had downloaded that information to the human almost instantaneously, from what he could discover, but the human accessed it only with difficulty and downloading stayed impossible until now. At this rate it would be days of straight download to get all the information if the human did nothing but download. Humans needed to refuel and recharge and void waste regularly or they would not function very long. For Sam to achieve and maintain the state of mind needed to download, he needed the chamber, and his human skin tolerated the environment in the chamber little more than an hour.

He was going to be stuck with these humans for some time. "I need to use the restroom," he said. Dr. Spencer glanced over and waved permission. He passed into the corridor and headed for the lobby, turning the corner just as Lester walked into the hall from the other side. "Infiltrator here," he commed.

"What are you doing?" asked Megatron in his harsh voice.

"The human Cube is downloading the information in Cybertronian too fast for me to record myself, but it is not clear yet if the proto-Cube is recording. The problem is that the human's memories are being recorded as well, and there is no way to screen out that information." Infiltrator looked around at the lobby. He could see cars and trucks, including a huge red and blue rig with flames.

For a moment he tensed, wondering if Optimus Prime knew he was there. Then he remembered seeing four of these same vehicles with the same paint job, just in the way here. It was popular now, that was all. Optimus Prime had better things to do than ferry Sam Witwicky to a medical experiment, he told himself.

"As soon as you know the prototype is recording, kill Sam Witwicky. The information should record to the proto-Cube as it downloaded to him in the first place. Bring it and his body to me."

"I will let you know when the testing is done. He will return if the machine works, and it can be done then. His guard should be down. I will need help."

"You will have help."

"I will not fail you."

"See that you do not."


	2. Chapter 2

First, I do not own Transformers-I wish.

Folks, please review. Like it or don't like it, please review and if you can, tell me what you do or do not like. I can't promise that I will change anything, but I might.

Download Chapter 2

In the tank, Sam dreamed.

He dreamed about the first time Mikaela brought Poppy to the base. The Autobots had noticed Mikaela's swelling body at around seven months, and watched with some alarm as she grew larger. Eplanations of pregnancy and birth only made their concerns worse. They did not really comprehend what Mikaela was doing until she carried the baby to the balcony and held her so they could see.

Optimus, Ironhide, and Ratchet looked down on the infant, amazed and a little uneasy at the idea that this new scrap of humanity came from inside Mikaela. "She's tiny," Ratchet finally said.

"She'll grow," Sam assured them. "Mom says I was smaller. In eighteen years she'll be our size and as beautiful as her mother."

"Such a short time," Optimus said, surprised. He leaned down a little, towering over the humans. Poppy looked up at him and yawned. He straightened. "We will protect her," he said, and turned to the others. They nodded. Sam bent his head and looked at the baby so no one could see the sudden tears that came to his eyes.

He dreamed about the nights when Jimmy had colic and he would take the wailing baby riding in Bumblebee to get him to sleep. There were times when Mikaela had to come and wake him to get out of the Autobot and get to bed. She would carry the sleeping baby in and they would both thank the patient Autobot before stumbling in to sleep. When Ronnie was a week old, Bumblebee wistfully asked Sam if they could start taking rides with the baby again.

He remembered Poppy's first date and how she came home and when the door closed, stormed not to her father, but to Bumblebee and demanded to know why Mudflap and Skids were following her. "I know it wasn't Dad's idea, he promised to keep his hands off and you at home, but you put them up to it, I know it!"

Bumblebee confessed and endured her tantrum and meekly promised not to send them again, knowing Optimus consistently assigned newly arriving Autobots to follow Abigail, Poppy, and most of the children of the higher level NEST officers as a test of blending in and to observe human culture. They were also supposed to warn Bumblebee if the children were in danger. Being caught meant punishment detail and endless ribbing from the rest of the Autobots. The Twins were not following Poppy; they were following Bob, who was the child of another Nest officer.

He remembered talking to Poppy and her husband Bob after Mikaela decided not to fight the cancer any more. Mikaela had stayed in good shape, and while she aged faster than Sam, she did not age as fast as most people. Still, when the cancer hit, nothing seemed to stop it for more than a few months at a time. Sam held her for hours a day between treatments, days turning into weeks, willing his strength into her, but while it gave her comfort, it did not help physically. Ratchet helped all he could, but there was little he could do against this kind of foe.

All the old and all the newer treatments failed, as she began to hurt more and more. An honest doctor spoke privately to Sam and helped him understand that the treatments were at the point where they could no longer prolong life and might be doing more harm than good. Between Sam, Poppy, and Bob, Mikaela was never alone except when she asked to be. Jimmy and Ronnie helped as much as they could but they did not live close by. He remembered how he rode out with Bumblebee to private places to cry at times, and how the Autobot would simply be there for him.

He remembered the funeral home, when they were having the wake before Mikaela was cremated. He felt only his loss. Poppy, Jimmy, or Ronnie stayed close by, and he took some comfort from their presence. Slowly, as people came up to speak, he realized just how aged his old friends looked.

Then came a memory of an intense fight, one where injuries abounded. His secretary ran into his office with the message from Ratchet. Her news sent him out to the bots side. He found Bumblebee with Ratchet bending over him. "They told me it was bad," Sam said without preliminaries. He knew only serious cases went into the side rooms.

"Sit with Bee," Ratchet said, and left.

Sam understood. After a battle, there is triage. Bumblebee needed someone for comfort, because there was nothing else anyone could do and the less injured needed Ratchet. Sam went to Bumblebee's head to talk to him, and Bumblebee moved feebly and made soft noises back. Sam saw an energon leak. With the vague idea that he might spare his friend some pain, he worked to stop the leak and worked at other surface injuries, trying to make the inevitable easier.

He talked softly, constantly, using the same soft useless noises that he had with the children when they were sick. At some point Bumblebee went quiet, and Sam knew he was in a stasis state from which he would probably die. Sam leaned on Bumblebee, tears starting. "Don't leave me, Bee," he cried. "I can't stand it, don't leave me!" Something went from him into Bumblebee, something that came from deep within him.

Ratchet's shouting woke Sam. "What did you do?" the medic shouted again. Sam discovered he was cradled in Bumblebee's hands.

"Bee-you're better, "he managed to say. Just saying the words took most of his strength. Bumblebee only nodded. Ratchet growled, took Sam from his friend, and began to hurry to the human side of the infirmary. "He is better?" Sam said, and stirred.

"Don't move." At this point Optimus hurried over. Sam saw him go into Bumblebee's room as Ratchet called for a human medic. Sam welcomed the softness of the human hospital bed waiting for him at the balcony. He felt like someone had beaten him up and fought to stay awake as the medic looked him over, took vital signs and talked to him. Ratchet hovered impatiently.

"It looks like you're just worn out," the medic said to both of them. "I think a light dinner, a long sleep, and a hot shower in the morning will put you to rights. You're a little dehydrated, so I'm going to run you an IV, too. You can stay here and talk to your friends while I get that set up, before I run you into the infirmary." He left.

"You know why I called and left you with Bumblebee, "Ratchet said. "He had bad internal injuries. No one could have saved him. What happened?"

"I don't know," Sam told him. Talking took an effort. "All I was trying to do was make him comfortable, talk to him, and then he got so quiet. I remember leaning against him and begging him not to leave me. Then I woke up with you yelling at me." He knew he sounded cranky, and he did not care. "How is Bee?"

"He is not well, but he can recover now," Ratchet said.

"Enough, then," Optimus said from behind Ratchet. "Let them recover. Bumblebee remembers nothing except hearing Sam speak to him, and then waking with Sam was lying against him. He could not wake you, Sam, and called Ratchet. Go get some rest, old friend."

As Ratchet left, Optimus looked down at Sam. "They were frightened," he said.

"I think something took over," Sam said. Optimus would understand. "You know what I mean, the trance thing. I think- I think I have to be really, really desperate for it to get through."

"Rest now, Sam." The medic reappeared and wheeled Sam away.

But what had helped Bumblebee did not help Mikaela. Her body had turned against her, and the presence within him was helpless against it. He understood now.

He remembered when Ratchet told him of the material the exploratory team had found, and what he intended to do with it. Sam went into deep trance that night. He spent a week drafting the plans for the machine and took it to Ratchet. Ratchet looked at the plans with great reluctance, and only after serious and repeated aregument admitted they might work. When Sam was on his way to R&D with the plans Optimus intercepted him.

"Come for a ride with me, Sam."

"If you'll drive me to R&D on the way," Sam agreed. Optimus transformed and Sam climbed in. Optimus started moving, but slowly. "What's up?"

"Ratchet is disturbed by your plans for this machine," Optimus said bluntly. "He feels that there are too many unknowns."

Sam wanted to scream, and his voice was sharp when he replied, "I'm looking at any possibility that might work, Optimus. His is one, mine is another. If others come up, I'll look at those, too." They were approaching the building. "Look, let me get these to Engineering and I'll come right back."

The door failed to open. "I want a reason why."

Sam leaned back and sighed, suddenly exhausted. "Optimus, we don't know what's going to happen to the information stored in my brain if I die. The information in the Cube has never been stored in an organic form. I've checked. The best bet is that it will go to the nearest storage available. That's the option Ratchet is exploring. Correct?"

"Correct."

"But it's a guess. My brain storage is organic. When I die, it will decay quickly, and then where will it go? You could lose it." Flars and cars went by them. Sam saw autumn leaves float down from a nearby tree in a light breeze.

"That is a guess."

"But an accurate one, even if none of us like it. I've stored what I can, Optimus, as I learn it, but it's a tiny fragment of what I have stuffed in here. This machine might be able to store information directly from my mind." He sat up. "Doesn't it make sense to have some kind of backup?"

"Yes. But the device would be very easy to misuse."

"I agree-roll the window down a little, would you, it's stuffy in here. " Optimus obliged. "Thanks. We're going to develop a sister program to act as a kind of lie detector. There's a real need for a device like that, and we can work with the ethics of it as we go. That should give us some cover for the storage machine."

"All right," Optimus agreed grudgingly. "Now, tell me what the hurry is. Not even Megatron has attempted your life recently, and from what Ratchet understands, you are in excellent health physically."

"I am," Sam admitted. He thought for a while. "Look, this might be hard to understand. But I've had to face the fact that sooner or later, this organic body is going to run down and I am going to die. There is nothing anyone can do about that. What I have in me slows the process down, but it doesn't stop it."

"You should live for decades longer, barring accident," Optimus pointed out.

"You remember all those years ago, when you died to protect me?" Sam asked.

"Of course."

"And I died, trying to get to you, to bring you back, and the Dynasty revived me."

Optimus agreed, puzzlement in his voice. "Afterwards, I made myself a promise that my selfishness would not kill another Autobot." Fresh air blew into the window and he breathed deeply. "I have a responsibility to be sure this information I was given emergency custody of is preserved, as far as it can be. I'm going to go after any plan that might work. I won't take any risk I don't have to. All right?" His answer was an opened door. "Good thing I convinced you," he added. "I really need a bathroom right now."Optimus' rumble of laughter followed him into the building.

Something directed these memories. I'm getting therapy from an ex-box, he thought, and heard a timer go off. It was time to get out. He saw the light as the door opened, and sluggishly moved toward it.

Showered, redressed, and feeling remarkable better, he spoke briefly to the scientists. Steelman left before Lester appeared and never returned. Dr. Spencer assured Sam that as soon as they could, they would let him know if the recordings worked. Sam climbed into Optimus' cab feeling good. The semi started. "How did it go?"

"Spencer will let me know if the recording took place. He's almost certain, but he'll need time to confirm. I know the machine worked- he showed me the images. It's Cybertronian script for sure." Sam paused. "I'm sure I was in contact," he added, speaking slowly. "I-it was trying to show me something. I've been- too sorry for myself lately, I think. If Mikaela knew I'd been moping all this time, she'd kick me."

The semi moved out. "You sound better," he observed.

"I feel better. There's no danger from the process, that's certain, and if the recording worked, then I'm going to put time into this. It's going to take a long time, but that's not a problem." He smiled, and looked out into a world that looked much brighter. "Like you said earlier, there's no hurry."

Several months later, Sam returned to the clinic. Dr. Spencer wanted to go over the results of the original test, show Sam progress on other subjects and argue. Not long after the first download, Sam had moved the machine and the proto-Cube to the base, which made the scientist very unhappy. Sam was firm. He needed the equipment for his private project. Dr. Spencer got a copy of the machine to do research with.

Lester had reached Sam and Ratchet regarding Steelman. He was livid when a deep search done by one of the bots showed that all of Steelman's information was faked, and the clinic's personnel programs altered. Steelman disappeared. Sam used the security breech as his excuse to move the equipment.

Dr. Spencer believed Steelman was an industry spy. Sam found another technician, Joey Levant, who was not only highly qualified, but knew about the bots. He was also a cheerful young blond who was good company,which appeased the scientist somewhat.

Sam no longer needed the isolation chamber to get into download trance. Ratchet was supervising the download sessions now, part of an agreement with Optimus Prime, after a frank discussion about priorities.

After the Fallen's defeat, Sam stepped forward as the human representative for the bots. At first he thought that he would have to sacrifice college, but the worse of the negotiations were finished in four months, and Sam enrolled in a smaller private college with an excellent reputation. He emerged with a master's degree in four years, as the school agreed to let him test out of classes as long as he paid the tuition fees for them.

He also had somewhere in the region of thirteen patents and a budding company. Looking for information on energon, Sam found a lot of information about using other energy sources, including one for storing solar energy. Within five years the company was supplying replacements for coal and natural gas to power plants, selling small private generators that ran on solar power. Within another five years batteries were replacing gasoline engines in larger trucks and trains.

With the income from the company and the products Sam developed from the Cube memories, the Autobots no longer needed financial support. This change enabled the Autobots to work directly with the United Nations. Sam's father worked with administration until he retired to take care of his wife. NEST soldiers that survived the first years of the war and wanted to retire often found places in the company, which was constantly changing.

Sam and a team of researchers that included bots and humans discovered that there was a very cheap source of material that could be made into energon-garbage. The procuring of the material turned out to be a money source in itself. Being able to synthesize energon helped the healing of the bots, and the war began to be one of attrition. The bots insisted that Sam never see combat again. He worked with supply and administration instead.

Once, the Decepticons seized him. Afterward the bots rescued him, the Decepticon leader ordered that Sam not be killed except under his direct order. Sam had no idea what happened in the trance except that it made Megatron very, very nervous. As the war ran down, and the administrative work within NEST slowed, he withdrew from military support to run the company and spend more time with his family.

After that first session with the proto-Cube, Sam called a major board meeting and announced he was stepping down as CEO of the company. He had asked Optimus to meet him beforehand, and assured it that he would never stop being the spokesman for the bots, and he would stay in an advisory role with the company, but he would no longer run it. "The company needs new attitudes and new ideas," Sam said. "I wasn't doing anything wrong, but we haven't been moving or changing much lately, and new leadership might change that. I'll still be at board meetings and keep you informed, and the money part won't change. Shouldn't, anyway."

"What will you do?" Optimus asked him.

"Optimus, do you realize that I've been working seventy hours or more a week? That's almost twice as much as most workers. Even now I work a fifty hour week if I'm lucky. I never realized how tired I was until I slowed down. I'm taking two days off a week now and that's flat. I intend to spend more time with you guys, with the grandchildren, or just relaxing." They were in the meadow He tossed a stone into the pond and watched the ripples. "

"How goes the download?"

"I give it an hour a day. Ratchet says that the sessions are doing me good for stress relief, and he's keeping Poppy off my back since I gave him permission to talk to her. Poppy thought I was considering suicide when I gave her the house-can you believe that? She kept trying to get me out of that blue funk, and when I start feeling better, she gets more worried." He lay back and stared at the soft white non-rain clouds. "It's hard for her, knowing that her father is aging slower than she is," Sam admitted, after a comfortable silence. "The boys are having trouble with that, too, but they live far enough away that they can blow it off."

"Bumblebee was concerned as well." Optimus moved to better watch his closest human friend.

"Bumblebee thought I was trying to get rid of him when he came back from taking Poppy to California and found out I was learning to drive the flars. I don't know why it took him so long to talk to _me_! He must have talked to everybody else first!"

"He does like his new alt form, but he thinks you're taking chances."

"He got used to me being on the base or here all the time, and he's going to have to live with me getting out some. He makes it sound like I'm going wild if I go out on the town with Oscar or Jimmy when I haven't gone ten miles from the base! I didn't realize how long it had been since I actually drove until I started learning to drive the flar. Oscar says I took years off his life and he was sure I was going to kill both of us before I got the hang of it. This from the extreme sports lover. I've been somewhere with all the grandkids, that's all, and with Jimmy and Ronnie, and I'm going to keep doing that."

"What about the young woman he told me of?"

"Ahh-I didn't plan on that. I was trying to talk her out of-what she planned- and she talked me into it instead. She just wanted to –er-find out what all the fuss was about. She's already left for graduate school in Texas. And she never found out my full name. She said she didn't want to know. It's not going to happen again." He did not want to admit to Optimus or himself that the interlude left him feeling both pretty good and slightly ashamed of himself.

Optimus chuckled. "Rachet told me it was a sign that you are better. Just be careful, Sam. The Decepticons have been too quiet lately."

"All right. This is what Bumblebee made me promise." He went over the precautions his guardian insisted on. Optimus approved. Then he picked Sam up before lying down himself. "Tell me what you see in the clouds," he requested.

They were both sorry when it started to get dark and they had to leave.

Some time later, Sam met Poppy for lunch. They ordered, and after a moment she said, "Bob gave me a talking to." He waited as she visibly searched for words. "I've been unreasonable lately. " She looked up at Sam briefly. "When I came home, and I found out you were resigning, and you gave me the deed to the house and moved, I really thought you might be-thinking of something foolish."

"Ratchet told me," Sam admitted.

"Then I found out you were learning how to drive flars, and going out with Oscar, and someone told me you had a girlfriend." She looked ashamed. "I yelled at Oscar about it, and he told me he thought it was great before he went stomping out. Bob came in and told me that if it was Jimmy or Ronnie whose wife died, that I would be telling them to do what you're doing. That I had to live with the idea that it was time for you to live your life again." She sniffed. "I threw my drink at him and stormed out. I went outside and talked to Wheelie, of all things. I screamed and shouted and yelled for about an hour. And you know what that damn brat did? He recorded it and played it back to me."

She took a sip of her soft drink.

"Wheelie used to do that for Mikaela," Sam mused. "She said it helpedput thingsd in perspective."

"Really? I couldn't figure out wherehe got the idea. Anyway, I watched the video, and I realized that I was being stupid. Mom's been dead for three years. You should be getting over it." She bit her lip. "I'm jealous," she finally admitted. "You look younger than me. It's hard."

He reached over and took her hand. "Do you think this is easy for me?" he asked her gently. "Watching my friends and family age and die, and leave me behind? These last few years I felt like it was a curse." She looked up. "So, if I were a patient, what would you tell me?"

"'Take care of yourself first,'" she quoted. Then she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. They laughed and began to talk about their day. The food appeared. "Do you really have a girlfriend?" she asked Sam.

"No," he said, "I did spend some time with a young lady, Belinda Jacobs, the daughter of one of the accountants, and somebody blew the whole thing out of proportion. She's just started graduate school in Houston and left last week." Poppy just nodded and looked for the waitress to ask for the check.

So when Sam headed for his appointment with Dr. Spencer, he was in a good mood despite the argument he knew he was walking into. Bumblebee dropped him off at the back of the building and parked. The guardian bot did love the new form and the admiration he was getting from it. He told Sam that if he was going to make a change, that by Primus he would be the best kind of flar there was to be, and chose a fancy sports model. "You have your devices?" he demanded, before Sam got out.

"All of them," Sam assured him, resigned. "Do you think there's a Decepticon in the building, Bee?"

Bee warned, "They'll do anything to get the Proto-Cube and you and kill you on top of it. Or-"

"Okay, okay. " Sam said, to stop the recital, "I know Megatron would give just about anything to be able to stomp me like a bug and still have the Cube information. Or just get hold of me. I've got four different things in four pockets, plus the wrist alarm, plus the cell with the alert number to the base on speed dial. This is the closest door to the office. If I'm not out in an hour, you'll beep me and if I don't call, you'll raise an alarm. Plus I've got the beacon on the wrist alarm you can activate. Now can I please go in the building and talk to the nice scientists?" He opened the door. "Though if I have to sit on an examination table again I might just ask you to set an alarm off so I can leave."

Bumblebee waited until he was out and almost to the door when he let the horn off, making Sam jump out of his skin. Sam sent him an obscene gesture and went in.

Dr. Spencer was in the office with his slideshow set up, ready for Sam Witwicky to come in. He looked over his notes. That first session had gone so very well, and at the hint of a problem, the damn company trashed the original experiment. They gave him another machine, but it was nothing like the old one. He made good progress in developing the new one, and it could now accurately show when someone was lying, and when they were telling the truth. There were problems, of course, when people mixed truth and lies, or were unsure of themselves. But the mental images from the new machine disappeared. Dr. Spencer hungered for that machine back. What strides in treatment they could make, with that kind of information available!

He heard the door open and turned, but the words of greeting died on seeing his visitor. He lunged for the phone after one look, but it was already too late.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Transformers. Oh well.

Okay, finally we have some action. Please let me know if you like where this is going. This is a short chapter, but more will follow shortly.

Download, Chapter 3

Sam walked to the office door and stopped for a moment, marshaling his arguments. He wanted to leave Dr. Spencer happy, or at least resigned to the inevitable. Annabelle, who had taken the CEO position when he left, asked him to deal with the project for her. "I know you and the bots are using that original equipment, "Will's daughter said, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him, "and that it's important, but I would truly appreciate it if you would sooth the man down. We do want him to finish the research."Annabelle managed to combine being a lovely woman still at sixty-two with being a ruthless but fair executive.

There was some serious interest in the "verifier" to borrow a term from the H. Beam Piper books. One of the board members was a science fiction buff and suggested the name. Sam, Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Rachet, and Ironhide kicked around the idea of letting the scientist go further, but Optimus Prime was far too doubtful of the ethics. Sam agreed that it was better to see how the current project went before going any further. He opened the door.

Dr. Spencer was there, with someone Sam had not met. The scientist looked strained. "Ah, there you are, right on time," he said. "I have everything set up. I was hoping that you would be willing to try the tank again for me."

"I doubt it," Sam said briskly. "I sent back the questionnaire. You got it?" He slipped a hand into his pocket.

"Certainly, certainly," Dr. Spencer stood. "I hoped you would be ready for the tank, however."

That brought up the hairs on Sam's neck. Dr. Spencer knew they were not using the tank anymore." Who's your assistant?" Sam asked casually. He pulled his left hand out of his pocket and rubbed his nose. Then he walked over to the desk, between the stranger and the scientist, and looked at the computer.

"This is Smith," Dr. Spencer said, and smiled weakly.

"Pleased to meet you," said Sam, and held out his hand. A look passed over Smith's face, but he smiled coldly and reached to take Sam's hand. Instead of taking it, Sam threw something at him with the other hand. It hit Smith's chest. Sam grabbed Dr. Spencer and yanked him out of the room to the sound of gears and metal moving and shoved him down the hall. "Did he know you didn't have the prototype? Did he know I was coming?"

"He knew you were coming," Dr. Spencer gasped. "He wanted to take the recording device but not until you were in the tank and he killed you. He wanted to be sure it was downloading. He said he already had the machine. Thank God you understood! I hoped both of us-what did you do?"

"Something I keep for self-defense. He'll have friends. Hit the fire alarm. Move!" He glanced back in and saw the Pretender, now in his original form and still vibrating. He had already pulled his cell phone and hitting his speed dial when he saw Oscar racing down the hall.

"Barricade's parked outside, right behind Bumblebee, and it's only a matter of time before they start at it! " Sam's grandson panted.

"Dammit. We'll need bot backup, then. If Barricade sees two Bots he'll run." Oscar was a NEST officer, currently working at the base. What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Already done when I saw Barricade, but I was cut off. I wanted to see if you still wanted company at the firing range tomorrow." Sam was hitting his locator beacon as he spoke, then went back into the room, his hand in another pocket. The Pretender was still. Sam listened to his phone as he followed Oscar, but all he got was static.

The fire alarm shrieked and people poured into the halls. Oscar shouted that there was an emergency and everyone was to leave the building. The building shook, and that was enough to send everyone toward the lobby. Oscar grabbed Sam as his grandfather tried to head to the back door. "Pops, you can't get in the way! "

Sam cursed. Lester charged up. "Get out before those bots tear the building apart! Levi just told me he had Steelman in his office but you stopped him. What did you do, Sam?"

"Sonic ball," Sam said briefly. "It was made to slow the big bots, so the Pretender's off-line until someone reboots him. Won't hurt humans. Barricade's out there. I can't get though, and Oscar's not sure he did."

"Let's get you out of here, then." Sam allowed the other two men to move him with the crowd of terrified office workers to the front doors. The lobby was crowded but there was no mob panic yet. People leaving the building headed away from the sounds of the fight. Oscar and Lester shoved Sam through as fast as they could. The building shook again. Once out, Sam yanked away from the two. "Lester, get those people out of the way!" and raced across the street to get a better view of the fight. He huddled behind the steps of the building next door, Oscar behind him and cursing steadily.

"Are you carrying?" Sam asked him. Oscar shook his head. Sam reached into his jacket and pulled out a grenade. "This'll blow a leg off one of the bigger ones so be careful with it. It blows on contact with their kind of metal. If you hit Bee, I'll kill you."

"What else do you have?" Oscar could not believe that his grandfather- the CEO of a major company, the man who consistently talked to other CEOs and to the president on occasion, carried sonic balls and a grenade that could take out a small building just in case hostile bots showed up. He thought a lot of his Pops, sure, but until recently he also thought his grandfather was, well, you know, a grandfather. Old and everything, and he was sure torn up forever when Grandma Mikaela died.

Now his Pops got his guardian to be a kick-ass late model sports flar, and off-lined a small bot without thinking twice about it and was planning to get one of the big bots off his guardian's back? This was his _grandfather_? Pops had never been a soldier.

"We should have known with a name like Steelman that something was going on," Sam muttered. Just then Bumblebee went flying out of the alley and rolled on the street. As another bot came out ready to shoot, Oscar pulled the pin and threw the grenade. As Barricade stepped up, it hit his shoulder, bounced, and blew. Sam watched in amazement as Barricade fell, his head rolling over to touch Bumblebee's foot.

"Nice throw," he said to his panting grandson.

"Luck," Oscar said modestly.

Just then they heard a jet. Sam looked up and cursed as Bumblebee transformed back into the flar. The older human ran as Bumblebee came up, Oscar right behind him, and they both scrambled into the flar. Bumblebee took off as soon as they were in. "Starscream," Sam groaned, as Oscar hung on for dear life. "All the heavy hitters..." He dug another grenade out of his jacket pocket. "Heat grenade." He pulled a gun out of the last pocket. "That and this laser are all I have left. The laser's not much good for a bot, dammit but your aim is better than mine. I can't believe you off-lined Barricade!" He handed Oscar the grenade.

"Shit!" Oscar screeched. Sam looked up to see Starscream land in front of them. Bumblebee braked and managed a 180 turn, but it was too late. The huge bot landed on him. The two men threw themselves out of the doors, racing to opposite ends of the street. Starscream looked from one side to the other as Bumblebee struggled frantically to get the bot off. Without a better look, he had no way of knowing which man was Sam.

Sam aimed at his optic and shot. The beam glanced off, but caught the hostile bot's attention long enough for Bumblebee to get free. He was transforming even as he got clear. Oscar threw the heat grenade, but he did not get a clear shot and the grenade bounced against the bot's leg and landed on his foot. Bright light flared, and Starscream screeched as his foot melted into the asphalt. Bumblebee shot straight into his chest at close range, and Starscream went down. Oscar could see something coming up behind Sam but could not see clearly what it was.

Sam turned. Without hesitation he took off. Oscar did not stay to look; he started running, intending to circle the building to help Sam. Behind him he heard a huge blast and threw himself into an alley. Glancing back, he saw Bumblebee skidding on his back. One of his arms was gone and he saw other heavy damage. Bumblebee was out. Oscar started to get up when a heavy piece of debris came down and struck his leg. His scream of agony was lost in the blast.

Sam heard the noise and glanced back in time to see Megatron fire straight into Bumblebee. He went down, tumbled as he had been trained and was up and running again, trying to get to the shelter of a building as a shadow fell over him, knowing even as he tried that it was too late. The ground shuddered, knocking Sam from his feet. The laser rolled from his hand.

Even as he stood, he was encased on two huge hands. He saw the laser crushed by one of them. Megatron picked him up and stood. He turned Sam, who gulped air, feeling his lungs burn. He was numb from too much happening, too fast. Minutes ago, he was happier than he had been in six years, and now he was face to face and helpless in the hands-literally- of his worst enemy. "Where is the proto-Cube?" Megatron asked. "It was not in the building."

"Steelman was a bad name for a Pretender," Sam said, trying to stall. "I guessed and moved it." Megatron cupped his hands around Sam and shook him the way a child shakes a handful of dice. Opening his hands, he asked again. "Optimus has it safe." This time Megatron put his thumb over Sam's chest and squeezed. He let up a little and Sam panted.

"Optimus is busy," Megatron informed him, closed his hands, shook, opened them, and added, "Talk or I destroy every building here until I find it."

There was no way of knowing if there were people in the buildings. "At the base," Sam admitted with a shaking voice, and wiped blood from a scratch on his head. He pushed himself into a sitting position. "You'll never get past Optimus and the others to get it." Megatron cursed, and Sam tried to jump out of his hands.

Megatron shoved him down with a thumb. "Don't provoke me, " he over to Starscream, he gave Sam to the jet. "Hold on to him."

"Let me kill him," y Starscream said, glaring at the human in his hand.

"Shove your cannon up your nose and blow your head off, coward. Bumblebee had you down." Sam said, despair making him reckless. He knew Bumblebee was offline at best. He could only hope that Oscar had gotten through.

"I will destroy your guardian while you watch, and the human with him!" Starscream squeezed. Sam fought for breath and went limp.

Megatron stamped on his second in command's melted foot. Starscream yelped and almost dropped Sam, who gulped air. "If you kill him, we lose all our old knowledge, all our past!"he shouted. "Fool, none of us can hold the knowledge, or I would have it from when this one uploaded the All-Spark into me! Until we find something to make a Cube, he has to live, and an army will be here at any time! We have no time to make sure of that one," he gestured to Bumblebee.

Megatron broke Starscream's foot from the pavement and transformed into the jet. At the sound, Sam roused and struggled, but Starscream tightened his grip enough to hold him , and shoved him into the cockpit when Mengatron opened it. Then he transformed into jet mode, and they were gone.

Inside the plane, Sam scrambled desperately to find a way out, knowing it was useless, as he heard, "I told you once that if you gave me the Cube, I would keep you as a pet. I have the Cube, and it seems I have a pet."


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own Transformers. Life was not that good to me.

Let me know what you think.

Download Chapter Four

Oscar finally got through, only to discover that there was a frantic battle just outside the base, with raids on the energon plants as well. He could only curse and watch helplessly as the jets blew away.

Help finally arrived, and took both of them to the base. Oscar's leg was badly broken. Bumblebee was terribly damaged but Ratchet was able to bring him back on-line and said with relief that the damage could be fixed. Optimus listened to their report, and told them to stop blaming themselves. "Between you, Sam, and Bumblebee, you off-lined two Decepticons and stopped a third, two of them powerful," he told them. "Both of you fought well against terrible odds."

"What will they do to Pops?" Oscar asked and his voice broke. "He's got to be hurt, the way Megatron was treating him."

"They must keep him alive and in reasonable good health," Ratchet told them. "Megatron knows that. But they will come after the prototype again, unless they have their own. I doubt that. We searched for thousands of years and we only found the material by luck."

"We will find him and bring him home," Optimus said. Oscar nodded, knowing it was the best anyone could do at this point. Optimus sent him back to the infirmary. "Bumblebee, Sam had a beacon on, did he not?" The yellow bot nodded, misery radiating from it. .

"Sam activated it just as we were hit, and it stopped when Oscar got through, when Sam was in Megatron," Ironhide rumbled. "We have searchers going on every direction, but there is no way to know where they might have gone until Sam is somewhere the beacon can work. "

He looked over at Bumblebee."This matter was carefully planned. Megatron was one of the attackers at the energon plant. If he had not left when he did, it might have destroyed the plant completely. As it is, they took three months' worth of production and did heavy damage."

"They thought to have a Cube," Optimus said. "Ratchet accessed Infiltrator's files from just before he was off-lined. He thought that Sam was coming for another download session with the prototype. The researcher did not tell anyone about stopping the original experiment because he hoped to persuade Sam to continue. Infiltrator had some kind of access to the computer even after Lester banned him and he knew that Sam was expected. Sam off-lined him before he discovered different. The attack here was a distraction, meant to pin us down while they got energon, and killed Sam by the prototype to get a new Cube. As it is, they did not succeed."

"No, Optimus," Ironhide said angrily. "He wanted energon, and he wanted a Cube. He has energon, and he has Sam."

TRTR

The flight was pure torture. Sam had no way of knowing how long they were in flight. To avoid being seen, Megatron went high. Within minutes Sam curled into as small a ball as he could manage and shivered uncontrollably while hyperventilating. He hovered on the edge of unconsciousness, his world limited to getting oxygen. His mind cycled, remembering the times when the Decepticons had him before.

Twice the Decepticons caught Sam. The second time was at one of the energon plants, two years before Mikaela died. Four small Decepticons, about Wheelie size found Sam while on an energon raid. They grabbed, gagged and bound him, and then found out they could not get him out of the base the way they came in. They managed to activate his wrist alarm while they carried him to every outlet they had been using, effectively showing him how to plug the holes, by the time security caught up to them. Sam always referred to the incident as the joke of the year.

The first time lingered in Sam's nightmares, and he relived it now.

That went well, Sam thought, as he and the two sets of officials, one government and one business, walked out of the building. It was one of the Sahara countries that no longer had much oil revenue, and were eager for the company to set up a solar energy plant here to supply Europe. He could see the official car on the street. Bumblebee was with Mikaela who was doing the social duties Sam hated and she thrived on. Two NEST soldiers were already in front of him, as the other officials had their bodyguards, and the hotel was less than two blocks away.

He turned to speak one more time with the Head of State when something roared and a force threw him back. He was trying to get up, already seeing blood everywhere, when metal gripped both wrists and both feet and he was picked up bodily. He shrieked, but screams were coming from everywhere, with a major riot.

The four small bots hauled him to a police car and pulled him in despite how he kicked the optics off one and the sensors off another. "Keep him shut up," Barricade said. They clamped brutal hands over his mouth. The heat was ferocious in the car. "My master is looking forward to seeing you, Samuel James Witwicky." He drove through the screams, and some of the bumps made noise as Barricade went over them, until the sounds went away and they were driving over something rough.

Then they dragged him out into sand. They were in the middle of the desert. Barricade transformed, and grabbed him, and began shocking him, over and over, leaving small burns where he touched. Sam screamed until the dust choked him. Then Barricade got a message, and got up. An order to the smaller bots produced a bottle of water. Sam gulped it. The burns were full of sand and sweat, and they hurt fiercely.

The smaller bots grabbed his feet. Sam pressed the beacon on his wristwatch as Barricade walked off just a little, and managed to turn the cell on when the reason Barricade had stopped appeared. The little bots let go and skittered away as Sam got up to face Megatron. "It's time I got my revenge for the times you've destroyed my plans, human. I'm going to enjoy this." Sam found that he could not speak, and then the huge hand came swinging down and hit him-again and again and again.

Sam kept struggling up, trying to get away, but Megatron would not stop, and then there came a time when he simply could not move again. He was nothing but pain by that time. His left arm would not work, and his right leg hurt near the ankle. His skin was rasped raw by sand, even where he was not burned by the shocks or the sun. His belly burned inside. Megatron picked him up and he passed out. He came to staring at Megatron, who looked shocked. His throat burned worse than before. Then the Decepticon leader put him down, telling the small bots to watch him, and took a few steps off.

Chaos erupted again, but this time welcome chaos, as Optimus and Arcee suddenly slammed into Megatron while Bumblebee snatched Sam and got him to an ambulance. The medics immediately began tending Sam, and sweet relief came quickly as soon as they could get painkiller into him.

Mikaela appeared as soon as he arrived at the hospital, her face streaked with tears. She brushed off the apologies and regrets of the government and got Sam home to the base infirmary as fast as the arrangements could be made. Soon after word came through that that Megatron gave orders to all Decepticons that if Sam was encountered, to bring him in but not to kill or seriously harm him. Sam never believed they would be able to actually do that- several of the kidnap attempts had failed because the Decepticons had no earthly idea how to capture anything without killing it somewhere along the line.

Well, that had changed.

When Megatron finally dropped to a lower height and he could breathe more easily, Sam managed to uncurl and sit up only with great difficulty. He ached, but his chest was the worst. It hurt when he breathed, and he wondered dully if his ribs were cracked. He was fiercely thirsty and needed a bathroom. He managed to pull himself to where he could look out. "What is wrong with you?" Megatron demanded suddenly. "You have not moved, not spoken even to complain. This is not like any organics, much less a mouthy slagging idiot like you!"

"Trouble-breathing," Sam said, gasping between words. "Cold."

"Damn fragile humans. We are close." Like that helps, Sam thought, wondering how he was going to cope in a place full of sentient machines that had only the vaguest idea what organics needed. Right now he sincerely wished Starscream had pressed down a little harder. "Fixer will deal with you." There was a short silence. "I would love to start your torment, but I need your brain in good condition for now."

Wonder how long you practiced that line, Sam thought resentfully. Peering through the tiny windows he could see that Megatron was landing. The Decepticon base moved frequently. There had been rumors that the permanent base was not on Earth at all. There was a jolt as Megatron landed, and Sam grunted in pain. He worked off his wrist band. Finally the jolting stopped and the canopy opened. "Get him, Fixer." Sam struggled to stand. An electric blue mech about the size of Bumblebee reached in and gripped Sam's arms to haul him out. He set the human down as Megatron transformed, but when Sam swayed, the mech picked him up like a sleepy child and began to walk away. He did not notice Sam dropped something. "Fixer!" The mech turned. "I need to talk to him tomorrow."

The mech assured Megatron that he understood, and went on. They went into some kind of building like a huge aircraft hanger. Shortly the mech put Sam down. "Here are human accommodations," he said cheerfully. Sam saw a toilet in a stall with no door and headed for it. The relief was incredible. The toilet even flushed. "Shed your clothes," the mech told him. "I need to examine you." When Sam opened his mouth, he added, "I am a medic, you see, and I have treated humans before."

Treated them how, Sam wondered, but Fixer had not been cruel or even careless so far. Sam washed his hands in the sink, gulped water from a glass sitting at the sink, and came out, leaving his clothes hanging over the walls of the stall, knowing no Cybertronian possessed the vaguest notion of modesty or any idea how to get clothes off someone except by ripping them to pieces. The mech noted how unsteady he still was and picked him up again to lay him on an exam table with some kind of plastic padding To Sam's surprise, the padding was warm, and stilled his shivering while Fixer scanned him, "Tell me where it hurts,"he said, and probed here and there. "You are suffering from two cracked ribs, dehydration, and insufficient oxygen over time,"he pronounced, "in addition to a great many contusions. The ones on your chest go to the bone. Fortunately for me, none is life threatening. Your greatest need is for liquids and rest." ne nodded to Sam, pleased with his assessment, and set Sam at a door nearby. "In there is a container you can use to soak in hot water, which will help. Drink as much water as you can. Rest. "

"My clothes-"

"There are coverings in there. Go." Fixer pushed him in and closed the door.. Here, wherever the hell here was, it was cold, and he hurried in hoping there was really a shower or tub with warm water. Then he stopped in surprise. The 'accommodations' were a studio apartment of a decent size, with a kitchen in one corner. There was a bed in another corner with a dresser and wardrobe nearby.

An enclosed area proved to be a bathroom. Something had been pulled off the wall. To his relief, the wardrobe held workman's coveralls that had a chance of fitting, with socks, underwear, and sets of sweat clothes. There were thick quilts for the bed. Sam took a set of sweats with him, got more water, and stood in the hot water of the shower until he was completely warmed, finding soap and towels in the cabinet.

The kitchen area boasted a microwave and a toaster oven, a refrigerator, and a sink with counter space. There was a small table with two chairs, and an entertainment center. He gulped more water, and grabbed a thick quilt to curl up on the bed. Two breaths later he was deeply asleep.

When he woke, he hurt, and he moved stiffly. There was no way to know how long he had been asleep. There was a pack of toothbrushes where he found the soap. He explored the wardrobe better, and found long johns that with the coveralls would keep him fairly warm.

He made an acceptable breakfast after taking a quick inventory. Most of the food was simple, non-perishable stuff. The refrigerator held canned or bottled stuff that was better cold but would not spoil until opened. He stretched as well as he could, then went back to bed with some hot herbal tea he had found, and thought.

Someone human had to have set this place up. No, someone human had to have lived here. The settings were plain, but they did hold everything a human would need for a long time. How long had his capture been planned? Sure, the "Cons would need energy to run their machines, so a power source was reasonable, but they did not need much running water, and they certainly would not need a toilet. Someone had set up a well and a septic tank. Out here in the middle of nowhere, such things were not easily or quickly arranged.

Sam doubted even Bumblebee or Wheelie, who lived with humans all the time, would manage this well, and the Decepticons? Their normal method of dealing with a captured human was to see how long it took to manage to stomp them into a red smear in the dust. It occurred to him that if a human had set this all up, there should be heat in the apartment. That hope got him out of bed again. He was hunting for anything that might indicate a thermostat when he heard the metallic voice he dreaded most.

"Come out, human."

He put down the cup of tea and gripped his courage. He walked to the door ...

_.. the desert sand all in his clothes as he tumbled into it, over and over, as a huge hand batted him again and again, hurting more every time, hissing with laughter as he would roll to his feet to try to run, only to be knocked over again, his throat so hurt and dry already that he could not even scream..._

...and walked out. Both Megatron and Fixer were in the hanger; it was big enough, though barely, to arch over Megatron. Fixer pointed to the table where he examined Sam earlier. There was a stepladder there. Sam climbed it, sat on the table, and waited, hands gripping the edge. After kicking the stepladder away, the Decepticon leader studied him. Sam looked back, saying nothing.

"How long since your activation?" he asked abruptly.

"Seventy-eight years," Sam answered. What the hell? Why would Megatron care how old Sam was? Well, keep this up, he thought, and I won't have any trouble taking Ironhide's advice.

He remembered Ironhide drilling him on how to handle an interrogation. Ironhide told him that he was going to talk, sooner or later. Instead of refusing to talk at all, he instructed, stall or talk on small matters, while the home base had time to change or protect anything it deemed important. It was crucial to tell the truth on unimportant matters, and lie on important ones. Ironhide emphasized that Sam was to tell the truth in such a way that he misdirected if it was possible, rather than lie. He said that Sam was a sorry liar, as if it was a bad thing. Then he strongly advised Sam not get himself killed with his smart mouth.

The hanger was colder than his room. He shivered, and felt the pad beneath him warming. "How old was your pet, Fixer?" Megatron asked the mechanical medic. Wonder what the pet thought of that, Sam wondered. Then he remembered the medicine cabinet, and the use of past tense. That might be his answer.

"In his sixty-fifth year," Fixer answered. "This human should show many more signs of aging, master. He is more like a human in a third decade." A Decepticon who studied humans? Sam was starting to get a bad feeling about where this was going. What had happened in the desert that day, when he was weakened by pain and thirst?

"I was told by the Fallen that the Cube could be destroyed, but the information would find somewhere to go," Megatron said. "Tell me how the Cube came into you."

Sam told him. Piece by piece, the giant mech pried Sam's version of that day out of him, how the shard had sent a rush of strange symbols through his head, burned its way through the floor, and created metal monsters out of several of the household appliances, before Sam got hold of it again and got it to Mikaela. "What happened to the shard?" Sam told about looking for a way to interpret the symbols, about finding and reviving Jetfire with the shard, about being transported to Egypt and finding the resting place of the Dynasty of Primes, how the Matrix fell to dust in his hands but he had taken it anyway. Then he stopped, knowing how unwelcome the rest of the story would be." The Fallen did not take dust from Optimus," Megatron growled.

"No. After you killed me..."

"You are in excellent shape for a corpse," Fixer commented. Megatron glared at him and he subsided.

"I was revived by the Dynasty of Primes," Sam said. "They told me that the Matrix had to be earned, not taken, and they send me back, and the Matrix was whole when I woke." There was silence. Sam noticed that Fixer was looking behind him, not at him, when Megatron went on.

"And that strengthened Optimus even after the Fallen took the Matrix?"

"No. Jetfire gave Optimus his spark and his parts, because only a Prime could defeat the Fallen." Megatron did know that, Sam thought. What is he doing? Silence again, as they looked past Sam to the wall. Sam started to turn to look, only to have Megatron's hand block his view. He tensed, waiting for a blow.

"Pay attention!" That bark was loud enough to set Sam's ear's ringing. "Fixer, get behind him. Fixer did as he was told. Megatron moved slightly and took his hand away. Sam breathed a little easier.

"What is the device you were using for the download made from?" Sam thought, and decided it was a safe topic, considering all the material was at the base and had been moved by now. Megatron growled when Sam confirmed that the material was not found on Earth at all, and that the rest of the meteor had burned. He wanted to know how they were making energon. Sam was fine with giving him that, since he could not picture Megatron using the process of changing garbage to energon, even if he could get its hands on the equipment. "Where on the base is the prototype?" Sam told him, knowing that the first thing Optimus and Ratchet would have done is move it.

Megatron questioned him closely on how the download worked, then on how Sam managed to find the information. Sam hesitated answering on that question, until Megatron growled again."I have to go into a deep meditation state," Sam finally told them. "Sometimes when I came out of it, I have an answer."

"Sometimes, meaning at times you are not able to find an answer?" Fixer qualified. Sam nodded and leaned forward to ease his aching chest, almost falling off the table. He was aching everywhere, his chest was on fire, and he desperately needed the bathroom. Fixer caught him. "Master, the human needs to void and refuel," the mechanical medic told its master. "He is still damaged."

"Not as damaged as Barricade or Infiltrator or Starscream. I paid a heavy price for you, human. Starscream and Barricade said there was someone with you, who did most of the damage on them." Sam felt sharp fear race through him and felt his face go blank. "Your bodyguard?" Sam shrugged. "I want an answer, human."

"He was an off-duty NEST soldier," Sam said carefully, "but not my bodyguard."

"Starscream said that he looked much like you." Megatron stopped, evidently searching a way to ask the question.

Fixer asked," A relative perhaps?"

"No," Sam said immediately, and behind him something buzzed. Megatron looked behind him and nodded. Fixer moved and let Sam turn to see where the noise came from. The machine from the lab was behind him, and evidently it worked. When Fixer lifted him from the table and put him down, the sound stopped.

"I find it interesting that you have told the truth for so long, and then lied on a matter of total indifference to me. Considering that, I will give you one warning. Do not lie to me again. Here." He tossed something. Sam caught it and realized it was the beacon, crushed. "No one is going to find you. We will speak more later."

Knowing now that his last hope of quick rescue was as crushed as the beacon, Sam moved to the door leading to his apartment and opened it.

"_Pet_."


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own Transformers (sigh). Warning: Non-bloody torture in this chapter.

Download Chapter Five

Optimus looked at the prototype in his hand. He studied the writing and pictures beginning to emerge on it. Sam came to the base daily to download through the machine, usually for an hour. Ratchet insisted that another Autobot be there while Sam communed with the prototype. Optimus sensed the power in it, a muted feeling compared to the Cube that Sam had uploaded into Megatron, but a flowed through him. Now, when Sam embarked on this quest to remake their means to reproduce, Megatron's only thought consisted of hoarding it for himself.

Megatron held a fragile human who could hold the knowledge and the power but not handle the latter except at great cost to himself. It tore at Optimus to wonder what his friend was enduring, but he pushed the anguish away. He hmust hide this prototype, to spare Sam's life, and he must arrange for the safety of his friend's family. The Autobot leader reminded himself again that Megatron had to keep Sam alive and in decent health. As long as Sam lived, there was hope. He transformed and left.

The infirmary was finally quiet. Ratchet made his final rounds, and then went back to Bumblebee, the worst of the wounded. While the medical bot had stabilized the yellow bot, he delayed the less necessary repairs in the fear that Bumblebee would try to head out on a search. Ironhide was coordinating a nationwide search with bots and NEST while Annabelle solicited government help to find her kidnapped adviser.

Everything that could be done was being done. Rachet braced himself and went in. As he neared the berth, he saw Poppy sitting beside Bumblebee's head, and heard, "God in Heaven, Bee, there was Barricade and Starscream and Megatron, and only one of you with what Dad had in his pockets? You're the best, but one bot can only do so much. Think about it. If you'd come to the base, you'd have run right into more hostile bots, with the worst ones behind you! Then all of you would be dead. Wounded, you can heal, Oscar can heal, and we can find Dad and get him rescued." She looked up as Ratchet approached. "Hi, Ratchet. Do you need to see him?"

"I do, but you can return later." She nodded and got up to leave.

"You remember what I said, Bee." Sam's guardian murmured something back and she left. The medical bot could tell that Bumblebee had gone from depression to determination, and felt a rush of gratitude for the one person in the world that Bumblebee might listen to.

"It's time to get some repairs done," he said, and Bumblebee nodded.

Several hours later,Ratchet found Optimus. "Bee will be completely repaired in a few days," the medic told his Prime. "Poppy helped him see that we need move forward. Any news?"

"No. The beacon worked for only a few seconds, and then it stopped. We have a general area, nothing more. When we mapped it, Ironhide could only narrow the area to two hundred square miles, in the northwest where there is a lot of rural and mountainous country. We are moving Poppy and her family onto the base. I have hidden the prototype again, and there is a risk that they will search the house for the prototype when they cannot find it on the base. Anything critical must be moved as well. Sam knows the base very well."

They walked outside. Ratchet was fairly sure he knew where his Prime was going. Sam and Optimus fought and died for each other, and their bond transcended the difference in their species. Not even Bumblebee was as close to Sam as Optimus, and at times Ratchet wondered if the reverse was true.

"Do you think he will talk?"

"Of course he will. The best we can hope for is that he manages to hold out two days before he breaks down and gives them what they want. That will give us time to adjust the critical portions of the base." Arcee, Jolt, and the NEST generals were dealing with that now.

"Do you believe he can do that?"

"Megatron knows what Sam holds. The All-Spark came through when he was tormenting Sam all those years ago. Sam does not remember. He might hesitate to do much damage." They got to the 'junkyard' where the bots went for 'target practice' aka temper tantrums.

"Does Sam know what he holds?" Ratchet asked, asking the question that he never dared to ask before. "Did he have any idea of the risk he was taking with the first download?"

"Yes, to both. How long did you argue with him, trying to stop the machine being built? The only way to stop him would have been to confine him. That would have destroyed the trust not only between Sam and me, but between all bots and humans. Not only that, but I believe that Sam was being driven the way he was driven to revive me, and afterwards I was sure." Optimus' calm died. "He was better, he was almost back to the human we knew!"

"I will be inside if you need me," Ratchet said, and left, hearing the sound of explosions behind him. There were times when even a Prime needed to be alone.

trtr

Fixer knew that the human hehad charge of now was the reason he was allowed to keep human pets and to study humans in general. From the day that the master returned from a mission and ordered that every follower he had capture but not kill or seriously harm the human Samuel James Witwicky,

Fixer was ordered to find out what humans needed to survive and how to hold one securely. Hewas released from all other assignments except the sparkling project, which had been in stasis for some time. This suited Fixer, who liked humans. They were very complex creatures. He also liked the World Wide Web. For weak inferior creatures, the humans were very inventive.

However, they made bad pets. They fared poorly in captivity. As long as a mech pretended they were allies, friends or even servants, they did well; when they learned that they were pets and/or heavily restricted, they tended to die in a lot of ways. Even Victor, old and prone to breaking as he was, died soon after he discovered his status as a pet, even though Fixer took care of him, and the troops liked to listen to his stories.

Of course, Victor was old, and his life force might just have run down, but he took many more than normal of the chemicals he needed to function, so Fixer was not sure. Soon after, a group of humans driving two-wheeled motorized vehicles tried to claim the building as the Decepticons began to alter it for their own needs. When Fixer finished with those humans, the troops enjoyed playing with the ones that left, though they complained about cleaning up the mess afterward.

When Megatron told Fixer to expect a new human, he informed his scientist that he expected Fixer to keep him not just alive, but healthy and reasonable comfortable. After caring for Victor, Fixer was confident enough to assure his master he could maintain a human for quite some time.

Victor lived in the pen- the 'apartment,' for years before they arrived, and he gladly accepted the help of 'Steelman' and 'his doctor friend' to be sure the well, the septic tank, and the generator would to last as long as the food, and that the food was not only adequate but would stay edible. Fixer accessed his memories and rummaged through the pen to ensure nothing harmful to humans remained. The materials removed included Victor's 'medicine cabinet', the thin cloths for the bed that one of the humans had tangled his neck in, and most of the pointed thin metals that two of them managed to cut a vital line and drain away their energon equivalent. What a mess that made, he mused. Infiltrator complained for hours about cleaning the pen afterward.

Fixer managed to clean most of the coverings that Victor used. He removed the device Victor used to talk to other humans at a distance long ago. He used the foolish violent humans to find all the holes in the perimeters, in the pen, and in the buildings, and plug them. He never bothered to feed them, as he had no intention of keeping them alive. They were far too much trouble. The pen reeked unpleasantly even to the troops until Fixer made Infiltrator clean it.

From what Megatron and Infiltrator told him, Fixer expected a human like Victor, old and worn. Examining Samuel, he wondered if his master brought the wrong human. Samuel's hair retained its color without artificial aid; his skin bore no wrinkles and kept the elasticity of a human in his third or fourth decade; and his heart and other internal body parts showed no sign of the normal damage that time inflicted on every human. While injured, and weak from prolonged exposure to high altitude and cold, he was far from losing his full life force.

Even more strangely, the human exhibited no fear of Fixer. He accepted the instructions and examinations no comment except about his clothes, which Fixer kept to examine for more devices. The master found one that the human had dropped and took it away to taunt the Autobots. When Fixer checked, he saw that the human found what he needed, used the shower and lay resting on the bed with one of the thick coverings Fixer left him to recover and went to deal with the machine that Infiltrator gave Barricade.

He accessed the account into the human research computer, one that Infiltrator set up before the humans discovered his tampering. Searching, he found the research notes, and found that the machine that Infiltrator handed over was not the one that worked with the proto-Cube. This one monitored when a human was lying or telling the truth; the one that storing the download was moved months before. Fixer dropped the line when he detected a tracer. The master was not pleased. When Fixer suggested that Infiltrator be sent to get the right machine, the master informed him that the humans off-lined Infiltrator and the Autobots held him.

"I have a use for this machine if it is found to work," the master added. "I need to question my pet. It will be good to know if the answers he gives are accurate. I want to test it." Fixer set up the machine so that the human would not detect it.

Once again the human surprised Fixer. He was wary, and tense, but he showed none of the panic that other humans displayed in the presence of the master. When he almost fell from the table, Fixer reminded the master that the human had needs if they were to keep him healthy. After questioning Samuel for hours, Fixer wondered if hemissed something when the master asked the last question and the human finally lied.

When the human had gone in the pen and the door closed, Megatron grumbled, "Took him long enough."

"He was not lying?" Fixer asked, stunned.

"No. I already knew much of what he told understand why he must be handled carefully. Until we can obtain or make a prototype, he is the only one who holds our past memories." He glared at Fixer. "I still need to question him. He is Optimus Prime's chief human ally. I want to know what he knows. But I do not want to damage him. "

"There is a way, master. It will take time but it can be done. I will need to make changes to that," he pointed to the machine and the examining table.

"Get to it. Don't fail me. "

They left Sam alone for several hours, giving him time to eat, to shower, and to sleep a little. Sleep did not come easy. Knowing they calibrated the lie detector frightened him.

He tried to think of ways to give true, misdirecting answers to critical questions. Sam knew that even as Ironhide told him to hold out two days, the soldier never believed Sam could do it. Sam doubted he could as well, but considering that the Decepticons wasted a day already, he felt hope.

Sam woke when Fixer raised the ceiling and scooped Sam from the bed. He set the human on a huge work table in front of Megatron and attached something to Sam's leg and his wrist, making sure both devices were attached to skin. The wrist ban was similar to the one he used for the download; the leg band had electric wires attached. "Look at me, pet," Megatron rumbled.

The descent into hell began.

"What is the easiest way into the energon plants?" Megatron asked.

"Through the front door," Sam answered, and a shock reminded him of Ironhide's last piece of advice regarding an interrogation. "There's no entry without an alarm." The machine buzzed. The second shock wrung a yelp from him. Megatron repeated the question, and Sam admitted, "There's a garbage chute with no alarm." That was no lie; small animals kept setting it off. Instead the chute held a trap. Several time they found small Decepticons in the trap, as well as an assortment of rats and other small animals. Megatron prodded the location from him a question at a time. Sam stalled as much as he could, glancing at Fixer and the machine nervously as he did, but the machine only picked up the lie.

"Where is the location of the prototype?" Sam stood mute. The first shock came, then the second. The third put him on his knees. Fixer pulled him to his feet, carefully. Megatron asked a different question. Sam's answer came quickly enough to satisfy the Decepticon leader. Some time later the question repeated, with the same results.

When Sam's leg started to bleed, Fixer moved the cuff to the other leg and treated the rawness. When Sam collapsed the second time from fatigue, he got mild shocks to keep him awake. By this time he answered questions as they came up, except those regarding the All-Spark.

Whenever Fixer stopped the interrogation to give Sam water, take him to the bathroom, or move the cuff, he talked to Sam. The first time he chided Sam in a disappointed voice, "You know better than to challenge the master, Samuel. Simply answer the questions and the pain will stop." As Sam wore down, his voice became encouraging. "Better, Samuel. Just a few more." Sam dreaded that soft voice as much as the shocks.

At some point he started shivering and could not stop. Everything fogged, and he felt only the torment of his need for sleep. He found he was lying on the table. Fixer was taking off the electric cuff for the third time. The pain was remote.

"That was better, Samuel. We are almost finished. A few more questions and you can be warm, and sleep." Both legs and one arm wore bandages from the cuff. This time Fixer undressed him and moved him to the cold examination table. Once again Fixer attached the cuff. "Just a few more questions, Samuel," he repeated, "and the master will be pleased, and you will be warm, and you can sleep. Do you understand?" Sam nodded as he shuddered with cold.

"For what reason did the All-Spark choose you?"

"There was no choice," Sam said, his teeth rattling as he whispered. Fixer set the table to warm immediately. "I was the only host it could find that it would not destroy. It can't use one of you. It will always overload the Spark and kill the bot, even a shard. I was the only host it could find that it would not destroy."

"It communicates with you, then."

"I don't know-"There was a shock. "That's not a lie!" he shrieked.

"Samuel," the soft voice was reproachful. Sam panted for a moment, and his eyes watered. "You are avoiding the question. This is important. Why do you keep defying the master on this? We do not want to hurt you."

Sam breathed, trying to get control before he was shocked again. "I'm afraid of it," he said. Fixer glanced at the machine, which did not flicker as it would if Sam was trying to dodge a question.

"For what reason?" Fixer watched the human carefully, monitoring his weakening vital signs. Megatron listened intently from across the room.

"I am a host, a container. It uses me, and I have no choice or control over what it chooses to do." Sam's raw voice was bitter.

"So it does speak to you."

"No. When I am in a deep trance state, sometimes I get answers. It has a hard time putting the information on a level I can understand. "

"Yet it chose you. Tell me the reason, Samuel. You're warmer now, aren't you? You want to sleep, don't you? Tell me. Would it have used any human?"

"No." Sam wondered the same thing almost from the time it happened, but the answer came after a download. He was warmer, and stopped shivering, making his voice easier to hear.

"What kind of human does it need?" Megatron sat up intently. Could they force the information into a different human, one they could control?

"I don't know. It tried to communicate with my ancestor, Archibald, and drove him mad. "

"Does the All-Spark sustain you as you are?" His fingers did not stop moving over the human, keeping him awake.

"It slows the process of aging but cannot stop it," Sam said as tear slid down his face. "We are trapped. Only recently did we have a way out, a way to correct the problem, when the material was found to make the proto-Cube. The download was working."

"It can still work."

"Optimus will destroy it before it goes into Decepticon hands." Sam spoke with grim certainty.

"Then he cares nothing for you," Fixer said. "The All-Spark could have gone into the prototype when you first began the download. Did he tell you that?"

"Optimus is Prime. He will do his duty even as he mourns the cost. I knew I could have died, and I did not care. We needed a resolution."

"Does it speak to Optimus?"

"Optimus is Prime and my friend. If I am driven to do something, he knows to works with us."

"It spoke to the master."

"Optimus thought so. I don't remember."

"One last bit, Samuel, and you can sleep. Can you use its power?"

"I am a container. I hold the information and the potential for power. I have no control. " Sam's voice was weak and bitter. Fixer took off the cuffs and within the next second Sam was asleep.

Poppy came to see Bumblebee the day he was discharged."Bumblebee, we have some unofficial ideas for finding Dad. Will you help us?"

"Do you need to ask?"

Her only answer was a relieved and brief smile. "Here's what we plan to do."


	6. Chapter 6

Download, Chapter Six.

I do not own Transformers Oh, well.

Judy Patricia Witwicky, known as Poppy (her parents called her that in the womb when they saw her on ultrasound and she was the size of a poppy seed) stood up in her living room and said to everyone there, "Okay, folks, we all know that the search for Dad has stalled. It's been a week, and nothing. All we know for sure is that Dad is most likely alive," here her voice shook, " and that he was most likely taken north. NEST has people searching, including my brother Ronnie. The government is searching. That means all standard means of search are being used. However, Minnie and Bluestreak have an idea, and I think we should go with it."

"If you told me this came from Bluestreak, I wouldn't have come," Jimmie muttered. Minnie, sitting nearby, smacked him on the arm and he pretended to cringe.

"This is an oddball idea, but it might help," Bob said, standing up and taking over from his wife. Bob was an average looking man with a placid disposition, and was considered the practical one of the family. He looked over the group in front of him, as much of a mixed bag as anyone had ever seen.

They ranged from his son Oscar, who was restricted to crutches, to Minnie, a tiny mechanic from the motor pool and the only person anyone had ever met who could outtalk Bluestreak, to Jimmie, Poppy's brother, the only person here who did not work for the company. Jimmie was well known as a television personality, having played a big part on a popular soap opera, and now acting as a voice for many cartoons and audio books. He used his mother's name instead of Witwicky. Sam on it for his son's safety when he struck out to make it as an actor. ""Minnie and Bluestreak found these forums, and we need to read through them to find any information that might lead to a hidden Decepticon base. If you'll give us your e-mail addresses, she'll give an area to search."

"We'll meet back here in a week unless something happens." Everybody pulled out personal devices and got beeps, signaling a message. "We'll give what we find to Bluestreak, and go from there." Everyone stood up and started to leave. Jimmie walked out with Minnie, where Bluestreak was waiting. They had given him a ride in.

"Do you think this might get anywhere?" he asked his daughter, as they climbed in.

"Sure," she said. In the dim light she turned to look at him. "See, I've been reading these things for ages, haven't we, Blue? A lot of times Blue's gone to check up and found enough to pass on to NEST, but he never told them where he got the information. Right, Blue?"

"Sure have buddy." Minnie and Bluestreak chattered on, sometimes together, as James noted again how much his lost, illegitimate daughter looked like his father, enough that rumors had floated around for years that she was Sam's daughter. James knew nothing of her birth until she started working as an engineer for the energon plants and Sam launched a quiet investigation.

"Well, we can only try," he sighed.

"I miss him, "she said, and sobbed."We all do." She wiped her face. "I have to dress up and work with the government liaison unit for the bots," Minnie was happiest in overalls and a hat, working on cars or Autobots. "Those jackasses drive me nuts, but there isn't anyone else! We never knew how much work he did until he just wasn't there anymore! And the bots, James, they're really upset; you know how much he means to them."

"Oh, honey," he said, and reached over to hug her.

"And what they might be doing to him!"

"They have to keep him alive, Optimus says, and you know Optimus doesn't lie."

"You can beat somebody up and not kill them!"

"Sweetie, you aren't helping yourself or anyone else thinking that way. Dad's alive, and we are going to find him and get him rescued. Then we'll worry about how he is. All right?"

She wiped her face. "Right," she said, and got a determined look on her face. Jimmie had to look away so he did not cry as well. She had the same look on her face that Sam had when he had to face down Optimus Prime and tell it that Jimmie had the right to live his own life and to leave him alone.

He prayed to whatever god was listening that his father was alive and still sane.

TRTR

Sometime in the night Sam woke and stumbled out of bed to look for food. He had to wrap himself in the quilt unil he found clothes. With a bowl of soup, a can of tuna, and some crackers in his stomach, he felt alive enough to take a long shower. In the water, the bandages came off. When he got out of the shower, he dressed but discovered that he was still exhausted. The wounds ached, and even with two layers of clothes he shivered.

The walls seemed to be nothing but cabinettes, but he found a storage closet and in it the thermostat, one made by his company. He found it ironic that his prison used a solar generator. As the room began to warm , he rubbed his face. He hadn't had this much stubble on his face in decades. He hoped he gave Ironhide his two days.

"Sam, I know that you are awake," Fixer said from outside the apartment. Sam heard the lock on his door click open. "Come out so I can check your wounds." When Sam did not move, he added,"I can fetch you, if you prefer."

Sam did not prefer. He wanted to keep the heat in. When he came out, Fixer pointed to the exam table, which had the stepladder again. Sam climbed up and discovered that the table was warm. The scientist dressed the burns, using some kind of salve that eased the ache. Heavy footsteps approached. Sam got to his feet, but Fixer gripped both his arms tightly enough to keep him in place, but not tightly enough to hurt.

"How is my pet, Fixer?" Megatron examined Sam. Then the Decepticon leader picked him up, holding him against his chest, and walked out. Sam took in as much as he could of the area. There was a small warehouse and a landing field. It was in the middle of an area half shadowed by mountains but with a large flat fielded area, covered with dead grass. The mountain side was was a thick fence that Megatron walked beside. Once he put Sam down by it. It stood about half again taller than the human. After a time they reached the end of the fence, where it met the rock of the mountain, and Megatron set Sam on a rock outcropping.

"What do you see, pet?"

"Bare space and blank rock," Sam said flatly. "Easy to defend, easy to see someone coming, in a place where nobody would come without a reason."Sam would have been willing to bet a lot that this place was a smuggler's base once, and that it was miles from the nearest dwelling of any kind.

"You are mine. I will not harm or allow harm to the one who holds the All-Spark."

Sam said nothing, but looked at his bandaged wrist and back at the Decepticon leader.

"Ah, but then I did not know, did I? What happened in the desert could have been some kind of trick. Now I have tested you, under my eye, and I know what you hold." He hissed. "My brother is a fool, allowing you to wander around as he did. Now you are mine, and I will protect you as he did not. Hope that no one comes after you, because they will die, either quickly in battle or slowly in front of you. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded. He felt sick.

"Fixer understands what humans need. He created this base to hold you. Tell him if there is anything you need. If you behave, he will reward you. Do not think that we will not punish you. There are many other fleshlings out there, pet. My soldiers would enjoy using one as a plaything, as long as it survives. Remember that before you defy either of us."

The trip back took much less time. Fixer waited outside the hanger door. Megatron put Sam down. Fixer took his arm and pulled Sam near him. "Behave, pet." He walked away, transformed, and was gone, the wind of his departure pushing Sam back against Fixer.

Days later, Fixer heard the sound of the pen lid being lifted, then a 'bong!' sound of metal hitting metal and a mechanical voice saying, "Hey!" indignantly. He rushed to the hanger that held the pen. One of the troops held the ceiling, shaking his other hand and looking baffled. "That hurt!"

"I don't want to be picked up," Sam said from inside the pen. He sounded irritated.

The troop scratched its head. Fixer winced. Sam said, "What the hell?" and the troop reached in gleefully, only to jerk his hand back again to the sound of metal hitting metal.

"Come out where I can see you!"

"No." Sam said firmly. "Put the ceiling back down, would you? You're letting out all the heat." Seeing Fixer, the troop complied and stepped back. Considering that exchange with the troop got more of a response from his charge than the scientist managed since his capture, Fixer walked over to the troop while considering some options.

In the room, the captive human listened,hoping. He missed getting his foot grabbed by about five inches. Luckily the cupboard he was exploring held a box of tools including a hammer . He hit the bot's finger joint, the one part of his hand that was sensitive.

Sam peeked out the door- no finger. He risked looking out a little further, and saw that the ceiling was still down. He came out, keeping the hammer with him just in case. So far so good, he decided, and went to get another cup of coffee.

For the first time in his life he did his own cooking. While he found plenty of food, he found no junk food, no sweets, no carbonated or for that matter non-carbonated sweet drinks. Ratchet would have been pleased, Sam thought sourly, remembering the medical bot's campaign to improve Sam's diet. But one of the closets held a French press and several pounds of coffee. He'd made two cups and already drank the first. While heating up the second cup of coffee, he heard mechanical voices talking.

"You got a new pet, and it hit me," the troop complained.

"That is the master's pet, and you better leave him alone," Fixer said bluntly. "He's valuable."

"It is? How? There was the noise again. What was it doing to make a sound like that?

"Stop that." The noise stepped, which Sam appreciated. "Why doesn't matter. Megatron claims him now, and none of you can play with him. He's important. The master does not want him broken." Sam inferred this troop was not the sharpest tool in the shed.

"We didn't play with Victor, he wouldn't have been any fun, he was already broken," the troop grumbled. "He died all by himself." The troop's voice took a wheedling tone. "This one might have stories. He could play the pretty noise for us. Victor liked that. Come on, Fixer, let me talk to him. Just talk. I never broke Victor."

"You listened to Victor outside in the summer when it was warm, when he was in the fence and you weren't. He talked to you and the others because he had no idea what you were. His visual sensors were broken. Besides, he was in a lot of pain and he used a lot of chemicals." A nearly blind drug addict who was out here on his own, Sam diagnosed, and wondered if anyone missed the man. The voices faded away. Sam drank his coffee, savoring the small taste of home, and went back to sorting out the closet.

While the cabinettes yielded mostly junk, he found some jeans he could wear once he used some twine to keep them up, and plaid shirts that were old and soft. The find cheered him a little. He wondered if the tools would come in handy for more than smacking mech fingers. There were two hammers, a rusted one and a sound one.

"Come out, Samuel," Fixer called, and he heard the lock to his door open. Must be time for the daily patrol, he thought as he went to the door. He looked out before closing it, and saw the trooper holding a rope. Then he stepped toward Sam and the human recognized the shape for what it was.

"Oh, hell no, "he said, and stepped back.

"Samuel, come back," Fixer repeated. "I told you to hand over any weapons you found."

"I thought you were joking," Sam said. He leaned against the doorframe, keeping a wary eye on the trooper who held what looked suspiciously like a leash, and kept trying to edge around Fixer.

"You hit Breaker with something," Fixer pointed out.

"I found a hammer. A hammer isn't a weapon," Sam argued. "Besides, he could have broken my leg, grabbing me like that."

Fixer glanced over and saw what the troop was doing. "Get back, Breaker,"he said. "Did you try to take him out of the pen?"

"I was just going to look at him," the troop protested, "not take him out."

"Oh, right," Sam snorted. Breaker gave him a sullen look.

"Go get it." Sam heaved a sigh and fetched the rusted hammer. Fixer came over and examined the tool. Sam saw his amusement. In his hand, the hammer looked tiny and useless. Breaker took it from Fixer, and promptly broke it.

"I see where you get your name," Sam said. Fixer laughed.

"You can't hit me with it anymore," Breaker pointed out. Sam shrugged. "Besides, don't you need to get out and walk? Get fresh air? Work up an appetite?"

"Where'd you get that idea?" Breaker scratched his head and Sam found out where the noise came from. "Okay, okay, I don't need to know, just stop scratching."

Breaker stopped. Fixer said, "You do need exercise, Samuel, and you are bored. Breaker is bored. It would give you both something to do."

"Getting outside and walking if it's not freezing cold or raining might be good. I don't need a leash. The whole damn place is fenced tight enough to keep out a tank, much less keep me in."

"I've seen humans climb up fences," Breaker argued. "The ones with weapons do it. I've seen them."

"Do I look like I have a weapon?"

"Go outside with him, Samuel. Breaker, take the harness with you and if he gives you a problem, you can put it on him," Fixer ruled. Breaker looped the leash around his arm. Sam gave Fixer a nasty look, but when Breaker started to unwrap the harness, he reluctantly followed.

He stepped out into a glorious clear day, with the sun shining brightly and no wind. He stopped and took a deep breath. The troop strolled, moving slowly enough that Sam could keep up if he walked briskly. He chattered the entire walk, comparing Sam to Victor and talking about Victor's stories and his 'pretty noise". Sam asked him how Victor made the pretty noise. Breaker didn't know, just that he used something inside the apartment.

Fixer called them back in after an hour. As soon as he came in the hanger, Fixer beckoned him to the medical berth. Sam trudged over, resigned. Fixer brought him here daily, to check his wound and talk for about an hour. Up to now, Sam answered his attempts at conversation with monosyllables. This time, Sam asked what the troops meant by the 'pretty noise."

"Victor played music for them. I have the equipment still, though it is not in the best of condition. " He produced a stereo system which had certainly seen better days, and put it in the apartment.

Breaker spread the word about the new human pet, and soon Sam found he had more visitors that he wanted, looking for entertainment. They took turns walking him once a day, weather permitting. They talked constantly, and Sam discovered that the stalemate between the two sides had not changed. The troops did not seem to understand that NEST soldiers were human, and they were wary of them. Sam was sure that Breaker was on his son Ronnie's 'destroy on sight' list, one that he shared with several NEST officers. Decepticons on the list-with the notable exception of Starscream, Megatron, and Barricade, who never seemed to die permanently-did not last long, and there was some kind of scoring system. The last Sam had heard, Ronnie was in the top five. The list was supposed to be secret, and was more unofficial; Sam heard Ironhide complain once that it was too short.

Sam had no illusions about the troops; they regarded unarmed civilians as entertainment. Sam was entertainment but untouchable until the master said different. When the master gave permission, the entertainment would turn deadly-to Sam.

One afternoon Sam was walking with Breaker when he heard the unmistakable sound of a jet. Without hesitation he headed for the building.

"Hey!" Breaker shouted at him. He unlimbered the leash gleefully.

"That's Starscream, I have to get inside!"

Breaker looked up, and closed the distance between them fast, snatching Sam up and running to the building. The troop rushed to the hanger, where Fixer was, and warned the research bot while he opened the ceiling and dropped Sam in. Sam landed on his knees and cursed. Fixer came over and said just loud enough for Sam to hear, "Sam, hide and be quiet." Sam limped to the closet, pushed the panel aside, and got in just as he heard the door crash open.

"Where's the human?" the jet demanded angrily. Sam reflected that Starscream always sounded pissed off.

"Confined. You are not to see him," Fixer said firmly. "The master left orders."

"The master is not here and I want to see him!" Sam heard heavy footsteps and the sound of the ceiling rising. "Come out, human!" Sam heard thumps. Then the closet door slammed open, and Sam scrambled to the back just ahead of a questing hand.

"I told you to stay away from my pet, Starscream."For the first and probably only time in his life Sam felt relief at the sound of Megatron's voice. The hand withdrew, the ceiling slammed down, and the dust rained onto Sam, sending him into a coughing fit. "If I want him damaged I can do it myself." I can kick my pet but you leave him alone, Sam thought, and felt sick.

"When I was searching for the prototype I saw a human that looked like him." Starscream said grudgingly. "Then I was attacked by both Bumblebee and Bluestreak. There were two humans with Bumblebee. I wished to see if this one was the correct one."

Megatron laughed. "Come out, pet." Sam pushed himself up and went to the door, brushing off the worst of the dust. He wondered, and came out. He stopped just outside the doorway, watching Starscream warily. "Come here." Sam walked over and stood in front of it. Megatron nudged him to turn toward Starscream. "Do you see him?" Starscream mumbled something affirmative. "Go to Fixer then." Sam went to his keeper.

Megatron walked out, Starscream behind him. "I questioned him for three days before he broke. The All-Spark resides in him. "

"This is unbearable, master! For one of them to hold it-how is it possible?"

"You did not hear him at the end of the questioning. Toward the end, he said, 'we are trapped,' and his voice held an echo. He said that the download was working but that Optimus would destroy the prototype before it would let us have it. He could not lie to me by then."

"When I had him last, when I was about to dash him to a death he richly deserved, it spoke to me," Megatron said, his voice soft, and despite himself, with some awe. "It told me that if I destroyed him, we could lose all the knowledge the Cube once held, and the All-Spark itself would be thrown into the Void to find a new host."His voice turned menacing. "As such, he is mine, and he is not to be touched until find the prototype. Whoever finds it can kill him. But quickly, so that what he contains does not manifest and destroy us all. Is that clear? "

"I will find it, and I will kill him," Starscream said. "I know where it is."


	7. Chapter 7

Download Chapter Seven

I do not own Transformers or I would be rich. Oh, well.

Those readers who are aqueously inclined may need something soft and absorbent at one part of this chapter. You have been warned.

Fixer was working the lab, trying yet another experiment and infusing more energon, when he heard the crash. As quickly as he could he left the lab to hurry to the hanger. Breaker and another troop were holding the lid to the pen, looking bewildered. "What happened?" he asked, before he noticed the missing bottom layer of the over be, he looked in to see pieces of tile and wood scattered over the pen.

The sound of coughing and orgainic pain sounds led them to the kitchen area. Sam lay curled on his side, a thick piece of wood over his chassis. Fixer removed the wood, and slid a hand under Sam. Despite his care, Sam shrieked. Keeping his charge as still as poosible, he ordered, "Finish cleaning the pen and fix the lid," before taking Sam to the examination table. Sam sneezed from the dust and white tile material that coated him. Fixer set the table to warm and got cloth and water to clean with. When he returned, Sam took the cloth and wiped his face and head, showing a few scratches but nothing more. After a moment he whispered, "I'm going to throw up."

Alarmed, Fixer seized a waste bucket and gave it to him just in time. When Sam could be still, he removed the human's coverings, but found no wounds. He pulled out a scanner, and hissed at the internal damage. Bruising and swelling began already in some of the inner organs, threatening to block some blood supply to vital organs. He frantically accessed the World Wide Web when Sam started to shiver. Fixer got a thick quilt for him. "Fixer," he whispered, "just let me sleep, okay?"

"You shouldn't sleep yet, I need to-"

"It'll heal me. Just let me sleep. Don't bother me." Fixer stroked Sam's back gently. If Sam died, so would his guardian and probaly every troop at the base. This fragile human held the life of their race. He watched as Sam closed his eyes and started breathing in a pattern. Theta state, the scientist remembered from Infiltrator's reports. He's putting himself into the kind of trance he uses to download.

Then he went to look at the pen. Breaker and the troops had picked up the pieces and taken the lid to repair. Grumbling, Fixer cleaned up as well as he could, picking up the wood fragments, the larger pieces of ceiling tiles, and the worst of the dust and small particles. Sam kept his pen neat and clean without any help up to now. After several hours it was back to a semblance of order, with a hole in one of the closets repaired. Fixer felt with his finger past the hole, and found it went back a small space. Fixer found some of the looser clothes in the wardrobe and carried them to the exam table to warm.

Sam was warm and his heart was beating fast, signs of contamination. Frightened, Fixer scanned him. the results left him relieved and reluctantly awed. On his skin, the light wounds looked sealed; when the scientist scanned, he saw the swelling reduced to safe levels.

Four hours later, Sam woke up. He found the clothes Fixer had left, and pulled the sweats on quickly, both due to the cold and because he desperately needed the bathroom. That taken care of, he looked in the mirror. His hair was everywhere and he felt sticky from the dust and other crap still sticking to him. He rubbed at an itch on his head and scabs came off scratches. He headed for his apartment, wondering if he could manage to reverse the lock before Fixer noticed, but the moment he saw the microwave his hunger ambushed him.

While stew heated in the microwave and coffee brewed, he grabbed a shower. Dressed now in heavier clothes. He noticed someone cleaned up the worst of the debris. Without the ceiling to keep in the heat, the apartment felt as cold as the hanger. Last night, he tried to search the closet where Starscream broken through the wall, but the thrice-bedamned troops had not stopped bothering him, and by the time they stopped, he lay down to rest a bit and fell asleep. This morning he had just finished breakfast when Breaker lifted the ceiling again, and quite literally the bottom fell out. Sam had been knocked down, and barely managed to cover most of his head with his arms. At least one beam had hit him in the stomach, and when he tried to get up, pain had hammered him back down. When Fixer lifted him, he hurt like hell. He knew he had internal injuries, and he knew he had only one chance of recovery. Thank God Fixer left him alone to heal. Now, if he could just find the back wall of that closet-

Repaired. Sam almost screamed with frustration. He kicked the thicker, stronger wall and stubbed his toe. Then Fixer called and did not sound happy. Sam sighed and shouted, "I'm in here!"

Fixer appeared above him. "Just what do you think you're doing?" he scolded, reaching for his charge. "I need to examine you." Sam moved out of the way.

"I'm starved, "he protested, and the microwave went off.

"Bring it out with you. The troops have the top built, they just need to put it on and they'll be out any time now." Sam sighed, fetched the stew and coffee and went out. He found the stepladder and took it to a window, since the sills were large enough to act as a table. By the time he settled, they were carrying in the top. Fixer noted his location. "Stay there until I come for you."

He ate and watched. The stew and coffee gone and bored with watching backs, Sam noticed how dark it was outside the window. How long had he slept?

Then lightning flickered. When the thunder echoed into the building, the troops looked up, nervous. They feared lightning, which fried thier circuits, sometimes badly enough to kill them. The grey clouds lit up regularly, and he could see the grass bowing in the direction of the wind. Lightning slammed the ground, and sometimes itarched from cloud to cloud, white forks and lines over the empty land. Inside him, Sam felt something stir, power recognizing power.

Between the questioning forcing him to acknowledge its presence, to the constant presence of the bots with no human contact, to the unending tension of the delayed death sentence, the presence inside him lay much closer to the surface now. Until the download, it lay quiescent most of the time, rousing seldom. Downloading in theta state, it used Sam as a channel. After the interrogation, Sam felt it constantly now, an awareness just beneath the surface.

It was not that it possessed him; it had always been there, but as he was living a human life, under the protection of his friends and allies, there had been no need for it to come through except the two moments, both a dire need. But there was something wrong here, something that it sensed, and that made it stir as well. Sam had no idea what caused the feeling, only that it was there.

A brilliant light lit the window, and sound crashed as the lights flickered and died. Fixer immediately ordered troops to the nearest doors. "Sam?" he called.

"I'm here," he called, unable to see more than shapes. He saw red optics glowing, coming nearer. "I'm watching the storm." Just then the rain started pouring down. Lightning flashed, but not as close. "Do you know what kind of generator this place has?" Fixer told him. "That last lightning strike must have thrown it into a reset. It'll come back on-line in a while."

"How do you know?" one of the troops muttered.

"I helped design it," he said. Intrigued, Fixer asked questions, drawing Sam into talking about building the company, and the energon plants.

"You mean you did all that and you was still just walking around where one of us could get you?" one of the troops asked.

Sam snorted. "You guys were after me for decades, and there was a hell of a fight when I was caught."

"From you?" asked another, and there was general laughter.

"I have a guardian," At least I hope I still do, he thought, "and he took down Barricade and Starscream before Megatron got to me."

"Had," Fixer said, and Sam's heart stopped. "You belong to Megatron now." Sam looked out the window as there was a chorus of agreement from the troops and put the stone-cold coffee down. He huddled somewhat into himself as the hanger grew colder. It would take about an hour for the generator to reset once the storm cooled down, and so far it was still going strong.

Fixer brought him a blanket and a large steaming cup with a kind of fruity tasting tea, heavily sweetened. Sam thanked him quietly and sipped, savoring the sweet and the heat. When Sam had about half of the mug gone, Fixer asked him," What are you thinking of?" Lighting continued to flicker and booms of thunder came, more muted now.

"Home," Sam said distantly, wondering what Fixer had put in the tea.

"Who did Starscream see?" Fixer asked. Sam glanced at him. Whatever was in the tea was working; he was slightly sleepy and relaxed. "A relative?"

"She isn't legally related to me," Sam said, "though I did have some uncles, who were a little careless in their relationships, so..." he shrugged. It's amazing how you can tell part of the truth and lie completely, he thought. He hoped that bunches of sneak bots were being caught- his verbal maps put them past every trap and alarm he knew of. "She's one of the company's mechanics."

"Why would Bluestreak and Bumblebee defend her?"

"She does minor repairs for the bots all the time." The bots trusted few human mechanics that far. One was Mikaela; when Poppy was born, she stopped working with the liaison office and started helping Ratchet instead, which gave her a lot of flexibility, and not so incidentally, gave Ratchet every opportunity to see the children. He tended to spoil them.

"Hey, you said we've been after you for years," Breaker said, bored with all the human talk. "Why? How'd you get mixed up with the Bots anyway?" Sam talked about getting the car that turned out to be Bumblebee, the run-in with Barricade. Fixer kept asking questions, leading Sam to tell about the Mission City fight, and then the long battle with the Fallen. After all, this was old news, nothing Megaton didn't already know.

As he talked, the storm passed. When the lights came on, he started to get up and discovered that he felt wobbly. "God, Fixer, what did you put in the tea?" he asked.

"One of Victor's chemicals," Fixer said, picking Sam up and putting him on the examination table. "We're having trouble getting the lid on, so you'll need to sleep here tonight." Lulled by the warmth of the table and the drug, Sam slept almost immediately. Fixer monitored him carefully for a time. He gave the human the maximum of the chemical his body weight could tolerate to keep him quiet and cooperative while the generator reset. The scientist noted for later that when he relaxed, the human tended to chatter. His stories and the way he told him told them kept the troops entertained. While Fixer appreciated the background information, he noticed that Sam did not give up any new information.

Such an unusual human, he thought. The All-Spark grows stronger in him. A shame he worked with the Prime. Fixer held a personal grudge against the Autobot leader.

Optimus Prime and other morally overweighed fools removed Fixer's ability to transform and banished him from Cybertron long ago for his spark experiments. Megatron intrigued by the possibilities; even with the troops he got from the Fallen's hatchlings, he needed more soldiers. The current experiments were destabilizing even with the extra energon Megatron brought from the last raid. He was going to lose the experiments soon if it could not find the key. He wondered if Sam was the key.

But his hate for Optimus burned stronger than his scientific curiosity. If killing Sam got Fixer his revenge on the Prime, he would not hesitate.

TRTR

Bumblebee finished his report to Optimus Prime, and waited. The information Minnie, Poppy, and their group gathered reaped solid rewards. Thus far, the Autobots and NEST had discovered several small bases, some abandoned, some current. They cleared out small nests of Decepticons in a lot of small places, and found occasional allies. The news they managed to get was both reassuring and disturbing.

"The word is out that Megatron has a human pet that it considers valuable," Ronald Witwicky said. "That confirms that Dad is still alive, at least. The bad news," here he stopped for a moment to control his voice, "is that whoever brings the prototype Cube to Megatron gets to kill the pet." Ronnie stopped. When Ronnie knew that his father had been taken, he grieved, because taken meant dead. Knowing Sam was alive was almost worse; a NEST soldier knew better than most what Decepticons were capable of. Bumblebee touched his back gently, and Ron looked over with a nod, appreciating the comfort.

"No one abuses valuable property, "Optimus Prime said, "and the prototype they speak of has been moved since Sam was taken and is well protected. We can only keep looking. Repeat, and repeat again to everyone involved, that if the base where Sam is being kept is found, report but do not attack or try to take any action. Megatron _will_ kill your father if there is any chance at all he could escape."

Dismissed soon after, Captain Ronald Jasper Witwicky walked out of the building to be hailed from the street by a huge truck. He hurried over and got in. "Were you tuned in?" he asked, as Ironhide drove off. He leaned back, feeling safe. From his earliest childhood, Ironhide remained the bot he loved the most.

Ronnie never wanted to be anything but a soldier. He worked hard in school and sports toward that one goal. There was only one problem- his father did not want his baby boy in that kind of danger. Sam tried everything to turn Ronnie's interest to sports, to engineering, and to a career in research and development. He tried up to the day Ronnie graduated from high school.

Ronnie knew that Sam did not want him in the military, and why. Ronnie still remembered how James taunted him once that Ronnie was a 'surprise' baby, and unwanted. Sam found his younger son crying, and coaxed the story out of him. Then he took Ronnie for a walk in the meadow. "Look, I'm not going to lie to you," the beloved father said to his devastated youngest child, born five years after his brother and fifteen after his sister. "Your mother and I both thought we were through having children. I had a vasectomy and your mother had her tubes tied." He explained the terms to his bewildered five year old child, and then swung him up into his arms.

"We thought we couldn't give a baby as much attention as it would need, "he murmured in the child's ear. "We were wrong, youngster. You've kept us both young, do you know that? The doctor told us it would take a miracle to have another baby, so you were my miracle baby." Then he tickled Ronnie until he was wriggling and giggling with glee, and carried him back to the house to play board games. James was sent to his room and put on restriction for a week.

But when Ronnie showed Sam the acceptance to West Point, terrified but determined, the unhappy father let him go with his blessing. He said, "My father had to let me go into danger on a battlefield, son. I won't do that to you." He smiled with an effort at the much relieved Ronnie. "Besides, Ironhide would kill me."

When he graduated he joined the Marines, as NEST only took veteran soldiers. But in his first year as a first lieutenant still very wet behind the ears, his unit tangled with Decepticons without any Autobot backup. He got most of the unit out alive, even after the senior officer was killed. As soon as the dust cleared, the Army promoted him and tossed him to NEST, where he became Ironhide's human liaison. When he came home, Sam said that he was proud, and meant it.

Ronnie Witwicky loved his father ferociously.

Like his siblings, he watched as Sam became remote and quiet, mourning their mother. Like his siblings, he noticed that their father was not aging as his peers, and like them he saw that Sam's life was built around the bots, and that there was something going on that they were kept out of. He made contact regularly with Sam, and like his siblings, hoped.

When Sam called a few months ago out of the blue, wanting to spend some time together, Ronnie hung up the phone with a grin. Dad finally come back to life. He cheered every change, from the move out to the change in Bumblebee. He was on the base fighting when the desperate call for help came from Oscar, but breaking through the lines to get to them took time, and by the time they reached the city Sam was long gone.

"I was," Ironhide said. "Optimus is correct, Ronald. Megatron must keep Sam not only alive but in decent health until he can get his hands on the prototype. What's more, finding these bases weakens their ability to come after it. Who would believe that Minnie and Bluestreak come up with an idea that worked?"

"She is something," Ronnie admitted. He was fond of Minnie. "Can you believe Starscream went after her today?"

"He regretted it." Both Bumblebee and Bluestreak hit Starscream, and they almost got him down completely, but his troops rallied and the Autobots were forced to fall back to protect Minnie and Poppy. They got a few of the troops, but Starscream got away. Ronnie bagged one of the troops on his list. "Why would he come after Minnie, though? She's a mechanic."

"She looks like Sam, "Ironhide said simply. "In a quick glance, a mech might make the mistake. Tell Minnie and her group to keep up the good work. Between them and all the Decepticons who keep walking into our traps lately, we're making progress."

"You bet." Ronnie climbed out and headed for his normal flar. Ironhide watched him go. Since Will died, Ronnie became his favorite human. He fondly remembered Ronnie as a child, wanting to ride in the truck or on his shoulder, playing chess and strategy games, and talking about human war history. It had not taken long for Ronnie to confide his mixed feelings about his own ambitions and his father's efforts to distract and redirect them. Ironhide listened, but after the hassle they gave Jimmy on his choice of profession, Sam stomped his foot down. No matter what kind of claim the Autobots had on him, they had none on his children.

When Jimmie wanted to go to acting school in New England, the bots protested. Ironhide felt that Jimmie was selfish in devoting his attention to entertainment and not to the company that supplied the needs of the Autobots and the war (and Sam's family) nor to the war itself. He still remembered Jimmie's response.

"'You mean you think I'm being selfish leaving home and not going into the company or into NEST? All right then, I'm selfish. I'm going go try to make it away from home, away from my parents, and away from you. I can stand on my own two feet. You guys won't run my whole life the way you run Dad's.'"

That hurt.

While Ironhide spoke to Jimmie, Optimus spoke to Sam."He's got the right to make his own decision," Sam said, and his voice hard. "He's my son and not your responsibility." Mikaela was just as firm with Ratchet. Ironhide was afraid that Sam would keep Ronnie from the military, but just as he had allowed Jimmie to leave home for his own dream (and by human standards, Jimmie had done well), Sam did not stand in his youngest son's way.

TRTR

Poppy sat on the porch of her new house, ready for the group to arrive. She was tired from a long day at work. Oscar hobbled out and sat nearby. After a moment, he asked, "What are you thinking about?" It was dark and cold, matching both their moods.

"The night Mom died." she said distantly. Oscar said nothing. She looked out at the darkness.

She remembered Sam coming back from the meeting with Dr. Stevens, the hospice doctor. He looked sick and worn, but she could tell he had finally accepted that there was nothing more anyone could do but make her they brought her home, Poppy called Ronnie and Jimmie, and both arrived a day later. By that time Mom was failing fast, and asked them to leave her alone with Sam. The children went into the living room. The door cracked open, but the two in the bedroom had not noticed, and the children in the living room heard everything.

"Sam? Would you hold me?" They heard the bed creak.

"Better?" Dad said.

"Yes. What's it like to die, Sam?"

There was a silence. "It was quick. Like everything just-stopped. It was peaceful, no noise, no pain, just-being there in the dark. Then everything lit up, and the Dynasty spoke to me, telling me the Matrix of Leadership had to be earned and we had earned it, and to put the Matrix in Optimus' Spark. Then I woke up and you were screaming you loved me and crying on my dirty shirt." Mom laughed just a little. "It was worth hurting like hell to hear you say it first, even if I had to die for it."

"It was such a silly game we played. I was afraid you'd lose interest if I said it," she teased him.

"I was afraid I'd chase you away."

"I don't want to leave you, Sam, but I hurt so much."

"I'll be all right."

"I'll wait in the dark for you. Until you're ready. " She was having trouble saying the words, her breathing labored. "Don't hurry. Be there for the kids. "

"I know you'll be there for me. I'll be all right. I love you."

"You said it first this time. I love you." Silence for a time. Then, "Sam? I'm so glad I got in the car- with-you."

This time the silence was broken by the sound of a hard sob, tearing out of their father's throat as he wept for the woman he had shared most of his life with, now out of her pain.

Then there had been the memorial service, where, when Poppy wept and was comforted by Bob, and Ronnie by his wife, Oscar, Jenny, and Ronald's kids made a beeline to their Pops, who roused from his misery to pick the younger children up and speak quietly to the older children who leaned against him for comfort. After the public memorial service, the coffin went not to the hearse, but to a truck in the back of the home. Bob took the grandchildren home, while Sam and his children followed Ironhide in Bumblebee, Optimus, and Ratchet.

They went behind the house, to the meadow. The bots transformed and took the coffin to a central area, where they hummed in Cybertronian over it, making their own farewell. Beside Sam, Ronnie suddenly broke down and wept, and Jimmie followed. Sam put his arms around them both. Poppy went to the other side, and the family held each other. The children cried, but Sam watched dry-eyed, his tears spent, as the laser came that burned the coffin and its burden into ashes that blew away in the wind.

That look had come over his face too often in the years that followed, and he withdrew. Except for her years as a combat nurse for NEST, Poppy lived at home, and never wanted to live anywhere else. Dad moved into the garage apartment they had kept for visitors and let her and Bob have the house, which he eventually deeded to her, telling her that when the kids left they could sell it to the company. Annabelle would buy it as energon storage, because it was already defended.

They tried, all of them, to bring him out of his misery, but all of them knew that it would happen only when Dad was ready. Then it did, and Poppy was still ashamed at her growing jealousy as her father, looking younger than she did, began to live again. She was glad she reconciled with him before anything happened.

We're going to find him, she thought furiously, as she saw the lights of cars appearing in the driveway- Minnie and Jimmy arriving in Bluestreak, Ronnie behind them in his flar. "Ready, Oscar?" she asked, and Oscar nodded and dragged himself out of the chair as Minnie jumped out of Bluestreak and ran to the porch.

"We've found him," she said, glowing with triumph.


	8. Chapter 8

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The humans went over Minnie's discovery carefully. The post showed a Cybertronian walking beside a human. They saw a fence in the background, and a field spread out behind the two figures. The human was walking behind, hunched against the cold, while the troop waited for him to catch up. When Minnie enlarged the human's profile, they all drew in a deep breath. It was Sam. When Minnie drew the view back out, Ronnie growled. "Breaker," he hissed. "That one's on my list. I can't believe they let him near Dad." He looked at his family. "All right, I'm going to head out with Bumblebee tomorrow and check this out. I'll be in touch as soon as I find anything out. Minnie, you did hack the location?"

She gave him a reproachful look as she sent him the information."Like I would say I found him before I got that. Actually, Bluestreak and I did." She hesitated. "Ronnie, be careful, okay? I keep wondering how we're going to get him out? Won't they kill him if we get too close?"

"I don't know," he told her honestly. "We'll figure something out. Everyplace has a weakness. We just have to find it." As he stood up and stretched, the alarm on both Ronnie and Oscar's belts went off. He checked. "Energon raid again?" he said in disbelief. "Dammit, they just took three month's worth, that's enough to keep our bots for almost a year. Sorry, guys, got to go." He raced out to his flar, only to see Ironhide waiting for him.

He jumped in and they left, Ironhide's siren flashing. "The plant again?" Ronnie asked.

"No," Ironhide told him as they raced out of town. "Your old home. Annabelle's using it for an energon store now. "He broke off. "It's Starscream," Ironhide added grimly, and turned.

"Where are we going?"

"Back to Poppy. Bluestreak and I are closest; we're to watch you tonight. Call home and tell Isabelle you won't be in tonight and that Arcee and Jolt are coming."

"Why? What's wrong?" Ronnie's heart started thudding. Could his wife and kids be in danger?

"Starscream went after Minnie earlier, and he's heading for where Sam used to live. We aren't sure if he's just looking or after a hostage. Maybe both."

"Looking for what?"

"The prototype your father was working on. Optimus moved it as soon as we got the news of Sam's capture. Starscream hates your father and would do almost anything to be able to kill him personally. Failing that- tell me, Ronald, what would it do to your father if he saw any of you abused, knowing it was only to hurt him? Starscream is perfectly capable of that kind of revenge. It only makes sense to not take chances." Ronnie stopped arguing and called his wife, who informed him calmly that Arcee and Jolt were already there and they were all fine. By the time he gave her his love and hung up, Ironhide was on the street in front of Poppy's house. She came running out. Ronnie jumped out and met her.

"Bluestreak got word almost as soon as you left, "she said. "Now I know why Optimus moved us out, but Ronnie, Wheelie's still there!"

* * *

Sam paced in his room, restless and uneasy. He feared he was going off the deep end, thinking he was hearing someone scream. With Fixer in the middle of some kind of urgetn project, the scientist told the troops to check on him once an hour. He tried working on the wall, and manged to pry part of the repair loose, but one of the troops asked what was back complained about adjusting the thermostat. Not wanting to draw too much attention to the closet, he came out and couldn't settle down.

Then one of the troops called, "Come out," and the lock clunked open." But instead of heading outside, the troop herded him through the warehouse, past the locked door Fixer did research in. Sam bypassed it as much as he could. The feeling of wrongness was stronger now, and Sam knew, somehow, that he- no, _**it**_ - was feeling something's pain. The troop opened a door into a fenced courtyard and left Sam there, closing the door behind him.

Starscream stood outside the fence. Sam saw troops behind Starscream and managed to keep his blank face on. "Come closer, human," the jet said, " and see what we do to traitors." Something fell over the fence. Sam walked up and looked to see Wheelie's crumbled body, his spark chamber torn out.

His heart twisted. Wheelie never stopped adoring Mikaela, and he loved Poppy just as much. Sam saw him daily until he moved from the house. He looked back up at Starscream. "Oh. You destroyed a bot a sixteenth your size. Proud? Did you have help, or manage to do it all by yourself?" He stared at Megatron's second in command. They would not see him break if he could help it. He was a little surprised at how numb he felt. Starscream snarled and took aim.

A sharp pain ran down Sam's arm and he heard a crackle. Where did that come from? he wondered, feeling detached. Starscream glanced down, and the troops began to back away. Sam wanted to follow the jet's gaze, but found he could not what seemed like a very long time everyone stood frozen. Then Sam heard the door behind him open. The sharp pain ran all the way through him this time and kept thrumming through him. He heard steps, and Fixer said, "Do you have the prototype?"

The tension ran out of Starscream faster than water out of a broken jar. "No," he admitted, and lowered the weapon. The troops began to move and murmur among themselves. Sam felt the thrumming stop, and suddenly he hurt everywhere. Fixer put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him gently.

"Come, Samuel." The human took his eyes from the Decepticons in front of him, and turned to look at his keeper, his mind still numb. This time Fixer took his arm and propelled his charge toward the door and into relative safety. About halfway back to the hanger, Sam stumbled and came close to falling, and the numbness started to fade. He broke away from Fixer and headed toward the apartment, wanting nothing more than to curl up in his bed and shake, but Fixer pulled him to the exam table.

"What is it with all of you today? Leave me alone!" Sam yanked away as Fixer's grip loosened in surprise. In the next moment, Fixer wrapped his arms around Sam and held him in a tight, though not crushing hold. Sam fought him, mindless by now with pain and shock. Fixer waited until the struggle weakened and then quieted, and Sam's breathing and heartbeat steadied.

"You have had a bad shock," Fixer said, keeping his voice reasonable and level. "You should not be alone. Do I have to bind you?"

There was silence, and just as it was about to reach for the straps he always kept nearby but had not had to never used, Sam said, "No," in a voice that held a slight tremor.

"Get on the table then, and tell me what happened until I came out." Fixer let go, and Sam climbed to the exam table slowly. Fixer put the lie detector strap in his hand. Sam told about seeing Starscream and about Wheelie, and stopped. "And what did you say?" Fixer prodded. Sam sighed and told him. After a moment's silence, the scientist prodded, "And then?"

"And nothing. We faced off until you showed up," Sam told him, somewhat puzzled. Fixer looked at the machine, and then at Sam.

"Samuel, tell a lie." Sam blinked and said he was thirty-two. The machine buzzed. Fixer stopped it and took the strap from him. "Lie down for a time, you do not look well." Sam sighed and got comfortable. Fixer set the table to warm, then considered. Moving quickly, he strapped Sam's leg to the table before leaving, returning with a mug. Sam refused, remembering the drugged tea. "You can drink it," the keeper told him, irritated, "or I can pour it down your throat." Sam pushed himself up and took the mug, which turned out to be tomato soup, easy to sip, warm and filling. Fixer waited until he finished it and gave him a mug of tea. Sam sipped at it. He wanted to trance, to ease the pain he still felt in his limbs, and the strain of facing death. Worse, while he no longer heard silent screaming, he did feel a deeper sense of something wrong, as if something was in pain and radiating it silently. He drank about half of the tea before he put the mug down.

"I can't drink anymore," he said, and Fixer took the mug.

"Did you believe that Starscream had the prototype?" Fixer asked him. Sam nodded. Fixer considered. Starscream had brought him material and left. One of the troops warned him of the confrontation by com link. When Fixer opened the courtyard door, Sam started to glow. Fixer's question broke the deadlock and allowed Starscream to back down without losing face. Fixer was certain that his master' second in command faced the All-Spark, defending its host. So, he mused, when 'it' takes over, Sam loses control though in this case, not conciousness. The manifestation hurt its human host as well. But the food, drink, and warmth eased the reaction as Fixer hoped. The master would not be pleased with Starscream or his pet.

"I need the bathroom, Fixer," Sam said. Fixer released him, but waited, and when Sam was done, brought him back to the examination table and insisted that he finish the tea. Sam forced it down. Soon after he was lying still and quiet on the exam table. Fixer worked in the hanger, keeping an eye out, but Sam did not stir.

Sam was not asleep. He relaxed into the trance so easily now it was scary. The relief from the pain came almost immediately. He envisioned Wheelie, mourning his small friend, and wondered again at the empty spark case. He remembered now where he had seen that before. Sam and Optimus sent Simmons, with Mudflap and Skids, to find the rest of the Transformers the former Sector Seven agent's research had come up with as soon as the war allowed it. Simmons grumbled about having to deal with the twins, but on missions, only Simmons' harsh sarcasm could keep them in line. Still, the Simmons-led team had dug up quite a few Cybertronians, mostly neutrals, until the word came that Simmons died by a suicide bomber. Skids and Mudflap died in the same explosion. Sam remembered that Optimus, Ratchet, and Ironhide were all upset about something. The remains were mangled as badly as Wheelie's

The conclusion deeply disturbed him- their sparks torn out. Why? Sam knew that if the Spark was gone, the mech was dead, but why would someone tear out the chamber? The answer came, and it left Sam facing agonizing choices.

On the mountain, backing down from the cliff edge, a man hurried to his van and got the hell away. When he reached the town fifteen miles away, he uploaded his recording onto YouTube from his laptop. Half an hour later, he got a gratifying call on his cell phone.

* * *

Minnie shrieked for the others when she had watched half the video. They appeared, racing or trailing in, depending on if they were asleep or awake. She restarted the video and the ones who were complaining shut up in a hurry, eyes glued to the screen. Poppy crammed her hand in her mouth when she saw Wheelie's mangled form thrown down. They all watched tensely as Sam and Starscream faced down, until another Decepticon appeared and hauled Sam away. "Dad's got guts," Jimmie said. "I'd have fainted."

"I'd've been cussing up a storm," Ronnie admitted.

Somehow this woke Poppy out of her horror, and she proceeded to demonstrate that as combat nurse she aquired huge profane vocabulary. "I can't believe they did that to Wheelie, "she finally sputtered. "I'm going to pound Starscream to slag for that, you see if I don't, that," she switched to Arabic.

Minnie wrote down several words she didn't understand before she said, "Oh, we need to show this to the bots!" and reached for the computer.

"Not yet!" chorused Sam's children and yanked Minnie back from the computer."If they see this, especially Bumblebee," Jimmie explained, "they'll lose their cool. You know how they feel about Dad. It would be a bloodbath- well, you know what I mean. We need to know who posted that video first, and how they got it."

Minnie located the information and soon Ronnie made the call. The rest listened as he set a time for a meeting, and closed his phone, excited. "It's even better than we thought," he said. "If this fella isn't lying to me, he knows a way in through the back door." He took a deep breath. "Okay, guys, now we have to figure out a way to tell the bots this without them going nuts.

They got the bots to agree to meet and present the plan. The children, once they put everything together, knew that they would have to be the ones to go and the bots, especially Optimus, were not going to want to hear that. The ones who worked called in to their supervisors, and those not living with Poppy went to get ready, Minnie grumbling because Poppy insisted she had to wear a nice outfit.

They set up on the balcony, each taking a different wall, so that the bots would have to look from one to another of them. Minnie set up the laptop, then stepped back so that the others could talk. She had met Ratchet, Bumblebee, and Ironhide, but not Optimus. She trotted to the bathroom while much of it was going on, then missed the corridor and found herself at the back door to the meeting room, facing the balcony. She headed for the stairs just as Optimus growled a name she did not hear and turned to stride toward the door, the other bots behind it. He missed just stepping on her. The other bots stopped too. Surprised, he looked down to see Sam's face turned up to him. Bending down, he held out his hand and she climbed into it without hesitation.

"Meet my daughter, Optimus," James said, sizing up the situation in a moment and going for it with the gift of timing that had helped make his television career. "This is Minerva Harrison, called Minnie, and she's the one who's been coordinating our search. Tell Optimus what we've found out, Minnie."

Minnie started talking. The others shut up and let her run, realizing that her resemblance to their father kept the Prime standing there. She talked about the information they had gathered, how it was isolated on one side by acres of empty space and on the other by a sheer rock wall, and how there was a smuggler's tunnel, made for hiding goods from law enforcement and rivals alike, but that only humans could use it. "It's not just that we all want to get Sam back alive," she went on, earnestly, "but I didn't grow up here with all of you, and most of the world doesn't know, and I think that's how we all want it. Sam's being kidnapped, it's getting a lot of attention, he was a CEO of a big company and that's big news to humans, and if we don't handle this right, all this is going to come out with a lot of really nasty publicity, and we don't want that. Humans don't like surprises, and this would just stir up all kinds of trouble, I know it, and I know he won't want that." She stopped, and her chin quivered just a little, and her eyes filled. "I want my grandfather back and I don't want my friends killed. You need to let us help, Optimus, that's the only way it'll happen. "

Ronnie said once of Minnie that when she started talking, it took a crowbar to shove a word in edgewise. The sudden silence when she stopped filled the room. But all their seasoned knowledge of the bots, all their careful preparation, and all their logic might not have made Optimus listen as well as the heartfelt plea of the young woman wearing Sam's face. "Ronald," he said, putting Minnie carefully on the balcony, "look into this matter, and report back to me. All of you listen to me." They gave him their full attention. "I want your word that you will try nothing until Ronald reports back with what he has discovered. We will plan this, as you say. If this back door exists as you believe it does, we will work together, on one condition."

"Yes?" Poppy prompted.

"James, Sam, and Minnie will explain why I did not hear of you," he pointed at Minnie, "until today. "

"You've got a deal."

* * *

Sam came out of his trance to the sound of Megatron's voice talking to Fixer. Sam sat up, and the movement caught the Decepticon leader's eye. "Tell me what happened," he demanded. Once again Sam told his story. "Do not speak to Starscream again," Megatron ordered. Sam nodded. "Good. Go to your pen."

As Sam headed for the apartment, Megatron walked away, taking Fixer with him. Sam stopped at the door, leaned back, and waited until they were out of sight before heading toward the research room. He got there to find that the door locked. He heard footsteps. There were several empty rooms with unlocked doors, so hiding was easy. Fixer and Megatron went in, and the door did not lock. Sam followed, his heart thudding. There was a large closet sitting half open and soon Sam was behind its door. He felt the pain even more strongly, and closed his eyes, willing himself to be still and wait. The presence thrummed inside him, wanting to answer that appeal.

Decades ago, Sam watched Jetfire sacrifice his spark to give Optimus power. He knew that when a mech died, his Spark went onward, though in special cases it could be revived as Optimus' was- something that happened once or twice in a history that made his planet's look like the blink of an eye.

Fixer's research held the Spark in stasis and tried to meld it into another body. Such Sparks were not able to go on as they should. They were in agony, but if released, or not strong enough to endure, they dissipated into random energy, lost forever. Sam had to wonder how many hwere lost forever due to Fixer's obsession.

The All-Spark could either release the spark to go on, or meld it into another body to begin again. As it resided now in Sam, only though Sam could it deal with the sparks, and at a cost to its host. Part was in simple pain, as a human body was not meant to endure that kind of power. Sam remembered how he had been totally drained after feeding Bumblebee just enough power to stay alive, and it had run through him in seconds.

The other was a further melding with the presence. He understood now that the melding had been ongoing from the time he had touched the shard, but slowly, as he was only occasionally in contact and almost never in need. The download stopped the melding process, directing the power to a different holder. Between the interrogations, the healing, and the confrontation, the All-Spark much closer to the surface now.

The state of the Sparks enraged the presence, a usurpation of its purpose that it could not tolerate; Sam could not leave any sentient being in that kind of pain. But the choice, to release or remake, sat in Sam's hands

Sam remembered Skids and Mudflap, how they had fought with him so long ago, how they had pulled some practical jokes on Will and Ironhide that those two had not lived down in decades. He remembered how Wheelie had adored Mikaela, how Poppy had considered it her first friend.

At the same time- Sam stood in a Decepticon base, and any results of remaking would be in Decepticon hands.

There were footsteps and voices again, this time leaving. Sam heard the door lock, heard the steps moving away. He went into the next room and looked at the tanks, knowing they held the Sparks.

The pain in the rooms deafened him, a wordless begging for release that propelled him forward.

He placed a hand on each tank. He could feel the twins on one side, Wheelie on the other. He could feel the agony, the endless, silent plea for surcease. He prayed to the deities of both his own species and theirs to make the right choice

He leaned against the tanks.

Decided.

_Willed. _


	9. Chapter 9

Download Chapter 9

I do not own Transformers in any way, shape or form, I merely play with the characters and wish I did.

Bumblebee spoke to Optimus before leaving with Ronnie on the trip. The yellow bot wanted Sam back so badly it hurt, but his leader's rage puzzled him. "Prime, what bothered you so much?"

"Fixer," Optimus hissed, and had to stop and calm down. "In Cybertron, Fixer was exiled, his ability to use weapons and his alt ability taken away." Bumblebee was appalled. Exiled, with all defenses taken away? "He dared to experiment with sparks and some were lost to the Void. You remember how Skids and Mudflap were found? I worried then, but we found nothing."

"Then Megatron is sponsoring that research again?"

"I do not know, but if so..." Optimus hissed. "How was Sam in the videos?"

"He was thinner, but did not look abused or ill." Bumblebee said.

"That is not Fixer's way. He would care for the physical needs of his charges. You know what Sam has in him." Bumblebee nodded.

"He always says he is an alien library," Bumblebee said, and hesitated. "But I think he holds more. He's afraid to talk about it so I left him alone. "

"He should be. He holds the All-Spark. He would sometimes speak around naming it. Naming something gives it shape and form and forces someone to confront the situation. Megatron released Sam instead of killing him because the All-Spark came through and spoke to him, and I have been sure since that moment- but Sam remembered nothing of it. That is why he could heal you- but you remember what it cost him." Bumblebee nodded; Sam was out of work for three days, the only time he had ever taken sick leave except for obvious injuries. "At the end of the video, he had sparks coming from his fingers."

"But what does that mean?"

"That the All-Spark is melding with him. Fixer does not twist or maim bodies. That is easy, and needs no research, no skill. Twisting the mind, trying to twist the Spark, takes skill." Optimus stopped. "See if this back door is there, Bumblebee. Minnie is correct, we do not need to attack blindly, and we do not need to turn our allies against us."

"I failed Sam, failed us all when they got to him..." The old pain, the old guilt came back again.

"You were up against Barricade, Starscream and Megatron with only the help of Sam and Oscar. You were meant to hold out until help came, and no help came. I died when I defended Sam under similar circumstances. Can I hold you to blame for surviving? No one could have done more. Sam would tell you so, and his children already have."

"I want my friend back!"

"Then go with Ronald and find a way to get him back without killing him and half of our army. Report as soon as you know anything. I want my friend back too." Bumblebee left, determination in his stride again. When his scout was gone, Optimus growled, "And we will see about you, Fixer, once and for all."

Ronnie called in, sounding tired and triumphant. "I've talked to the guy who took the pictures. His name is Vernon Filbert, called Bert, and he's not a crackpot, he's an engineer. Not only is he relieved that someone believes him, he's out of work and willing to relocate."

"Good," said Minnie. The company needed more engineers.

"He took me to the backdoor he talked about. It's clear all the way to the hanger, and then walled off. We could hear troops all the way through. "Ronnie sounded grim. " Bert was scared to death and I was nervous myself. We were lucky, they were excited about something but we didn't stick around to hear what it was. Minnie, honey, you were completely right about the fields and the cliff. This place was built so you could see somebody coming. It's got a fence that could stop a tank, and the cliff is shear and goes straight inside the fence, where an attacker would be trapped. We found a big stack of motorcycles, weapons and bones in one part of the woods. Bert said a motorcycle gang came through once causing trouble. We all agree that they thought they could take over the place to start the drug stuff again, and got a nasty surprise. "

"But what about Dad?" Poppy asked. Everyone crowded closer, listening hard to the speakerphone.

"So far, good news there, Bert said Dad looked fine. He walked with the troop without any trouble, and during the face-off, none of the 'robot guys' touched him except the one who took him inside. He says that a nearly-blind old man named Victor lives there, and that just when social services was about to put him in a nursing home, a guy named Steelman showed up and helped him out. From what Bert says, Steelman got Victor set up with a new generator, cleaned out his septic tank, repaired his well, and made sure he was stocked up with enough food to last the winter. No way of knowing if they're keeping the old man as cover-remember, he's nearly blind- or if they were setting up for Dad. "

Jimmie asked,. "Do you really think the old man is still alive?"

"No, but we don't know for sure. Don't worry, Jimmie, we ran four different checks on Bert and he's completely clean."

"So what was he doing there?" Poppy asked.

"He's a rock climber. Victor let him use the cliff for his hobby. The place used to be a drug smuggler's base, and got cleaned out a long time ago. Victor bought it for his generator setup and delivery business, but his arthritis got bad and he retired some time ago. Bert went to climb, and that's when he saw Dad and got the picture. The other good news is that the back door's made from a natural cave formation, completely hidden unless you know where it is."

trtr

When he finished dealing with Starscream, Megatron called for Sam. An irate search of the pen later, the entire base was alerted and looking for him. While the troops searched, yelling and cursing and breaking as they did so, Fixer went to his research lab. Noise came from the tank room. The researcher found Sam sprawled awkwardly on the floor between the destroyed tanks. Squatting by him were three clicking sparklings, dripping a little energon.

For days, Sam moved only to get to the bathroom and swallow the food Fixer forced on him. Every nerve twinged, and he felt so weak that turning his head took effort. When the researcher managed to wake him, Sam found he lay on the warm exam table, covered by a thick quilt. "Your body temperature is too low," Fixer said, forcing him to drink warm sweet tea. "What did you do?"

"I don't know, it took over," Sam whispered.

The Decepticon leader looked down at the little beings at his feet, and they looked back at him with clear-not blue, not red-optics. "Why, pet?" Megatron asked, as the sparklings pulled themselves up with the tables, poked into crevices curiously, and clinked to each other.

"We could hear them screaming," Sam whispered, "and we couldn't stand it." He whimpered in pain and curled into a fetal position.

"Keep him alive," Megatron said to Fixer.

Gradually the pain receded and Sam moved back to the apartment. He missed his new entertainment, though. Megatron and Fixer intended to move the sparks into adult frames. Instead, they got sparklings, and now they learned just how much work a youngling could be. Sam enjoyed watching the troops panic whenever one of the sparklings fell down and wailed. The little mechs were well on their way to being the most spoiled children in the known universe while driving one researcher and several hardened troops insane when someone figured out that they had a parent on the base.

Sam became the foster parent to a set of sparkling triplets, when no one else could stand dealing with them anymore. He could get them calmed down enough to listen to music and some of Victor's book recordings (he noted with wry amusement that his son Jimmie had voiced some of them) and discovered that he understood Cybertronian when he could hear it. The sparklings began understanding when Sam scolded them or praised them, and picked up some Cybertronian from the troops, most of it cursing. Fixer performed their maintenance, though, as Sam did not have the strength or the equipment, and the troops took them out to run in the hanger.

Since they invariably found the most remote hiding places imaginable, Sam could count on a shower, a meal, and a few hours sleep when they did. He had also made a few inroads on the closet wall. Fixer and the troops left him alone to avoid demands that they take the sparklings and let him sleep. Outside the pen the troops dogged him constantly.

"Those stupid bots should never have let you run around like any other human. One of the humans could have killed you. You could have had an accident or one of those car things hitting you. Anything could've happened, and we'd all be messed up. _We're _gonna watch you," Breaker informed him one afternoon as they walked outside.

"Oh, and where was it that a ceiling fell on my head?" Sam snipped back.

"Won't have that problem in the new place we're building you. It'll be bigger, too." The troop sounded proud of the work. Sam's heart dropped. "But it's taking forever with the little ones getting into everything," he added gloomily.

"Little ones of every species do that," Sam informed it. "Believe me." He sacrificed some sleep and worked on loosening the wall. On one visit, Megatron helped. He called his pet and Sam came out, only to be followed by the sparklings, who immediately took off in different Decepticon leader yelled at the sparklings, which made them hide. Sam coaxed them out of hiding one at a time and managed to get them quiet. Megatron eyed his subordinates with serious irritation.

"Why is my pet raising my sparklings?" the irate leader demanded. Fixer tried to explain as Sam kept his head down, and got nowhere. When Megatron was at the base, or expected, someone else watched the little ones, giving Sam a much needed break. Of course, as soon as the boss was out of sight, the sparklings were back with him, but by that time Sam had rested and the sparklings were tired. He set up music, let the little ones listen, and worked on the wall.

The 'master' had come and gone two days before and Sam got one side of the wall to lift when Fixer shouted for him. There was suppressed panic in that mechanical voice, and Sam came out of the closet to see the sparklings being lifted in through the roof, squealing and clicking their protest at being brought back inside sooner than usual. "There's an attack," the researcher said. "The master is coming for you. Dress warmly. There will be oxygen this time, you will not be so ill."

One of the sparklings immediately ran into the closet as the lid went down. Sam got the mischievous one out, set up music, dressed warmly, and shoved food in his pockets. He had no intention of going for another flight with Megatron, but if Fixer looked in, he would be following instructions He hoped the opening led somewhere. In the closet, the wall arched outward. Someone whispered, "It's already loose!"

Sam did not hesitate or question the miracle; he just dove for the opening and followed Ronnie down a narrow corridor that went sideways and opened into a room with a rock ceiling. He hugged his son. "God, it's good to see you," Sam said.

"Dudes," the stranger said, his voice high and tight, and they let go, back in the moment. "Victor?"

"Sorry, dead."

"Those bastards-he was an old man-"

"This is Vernon Filbert, Dad. Bert, my father, Sam Witwicky. Let's get the hell out of here; Poppy and Bumblebee are upside waiting for us."

"Bumblebee made it then. Thank God," Sam said as they started moving. "Oscar?" Ronnie updated him as they moved." Get word to whoever's out there. Megatron's on his way, after me and some other 'precious cargo,'" and on the word they heard clicks and movement. "Oh, no, they followed me. No, Ronnie, no!" as the soldier grabbed a grenade off his belt, "they're babies, just go!"

Bert led the way. Outside, Sam found Bumblebee with Poppy. As he hugged her, three small Cybertronians burst out of the tunnel, squealing and clicking. They stopped to look around them. It was a cloudy day, with large flat grey clouds out, looking like rain any time, and they were not allowed out on such days. Bumblebee aimed a cannon at them and Sam jumped in front if it. "Sparklings, Bumblebee, they're sparklings!"

"Sparklings?" asked everyone, in a ragged chorus. Then the guardian bot spoke to the little ones in Cybertronian. Sam was amazed when the sparklings obeyed went to Bumblebee instead of taking off like they usually did. Ronnie said, "Ironhide and Sideswipe are close. We've got to get out of here, quick, they saw Starscream."

On the word, there was the sound of a jet, then the sound of transforming. The sparklings huddled against Sam squealing like mad. Bert moved back inside the bolt hole. Poppy snarled something and raced away. Bumblebee crouched in front of Sam and the little ones. Starscream fired, hitting the ground in front of Bumblebee and sending the bot and his charges tumbling.

"Stay down, Bee!" Poppy shouted. She held a huge gun with ease, firing rounds that threw the Decepticon further and further back. When the weapon clicked empty, she moved back, spun, and threw it, screaming, "Get down!" following her own advice. Starscream caught the weapon.

"Fool!" he sneered, just as the weapon exploded. The wails of the sparklings sounded pitiful in the silence as Starscream fell back, an arm and leg on the same side gone.

"Pick on someone your own size next time," the combat nurse hissed.

Ironhide appeared in his alt form, and yelled. Everyone headed toward the truck, except Ronnie, who went after Bert. As soon as they cleared the bolt hole, a roar announced Breaker, in full battle berserker mode. Even with the head start, the troops gained on them. Sam jumped out of the group and looked back to see Breaker about to reach his youngest son, ready to crush.

There was an ear ringing, mind-numbing boom of thunder, and a blinding flash of light as the electric charges within the clouds answered the call that burst from the frantic father that held another, similar power in him. Almost everyone stopped, overwhelmed by the raw power of that huge burst of static electricity. When they could see and hear again, they saw Ronnie getting up and running again, Breaker a mass of fried circuits behind him, and Sam flat on the ground.

They grabbed him up and everyone piled into Ironhide's back, wailing confused Sparklings included, as Sideswipe and Bumblebee dealt with the other few troops left. Poppy was frantically checking her father when Sam said, "That hurt," and sat up. "It's okay, I'm okay, settle down," he said, and both the sparklings and his children calmed.

"Dude," the frightened overwhelmed Bert said, "remind me to never, ever piss you off."

A/N: If you're wondering where the lightning strike came from, lightning is static electricity- a huge spark.


	10. Chapter 10

Download Chapter 10

I do not own Transformers, except in some very wistful daydreams.

Yes this is the last chapter, but there is plenty of action. The Muse jumped on me and made me make some changes.

Sam was well aware that Ironhide was making a report on the drive to the temporary Autobot camp. They stopped once when Bumblebee and Sideswipe caught up to them, and did some arrangements, as the cold and the rough terrain made riding on Ironhide's back very uncomfortable for the humans. Ratchet met them as well, and snatched up Sam and the sparklings at once. Sam was still groggy; the presence had responded to his panic for Ronnie as a threat to Sam and called the lighting from the cloud, but calling that energy hurt and Sam had not slept more than three hours at a time for two days. He sprawled across the seat of Ratchet's cab, enjoying the heat that Ratchet immediately put out. The sparklings squeaked, unsure how to handle the feeling of movement, but soon they reacted like all young children and were quiet, soothed by the steady motion. Then Sam remembered that an attack at the base had been a distraction-one that had not worked as well as they thought. "Ratchet, Ronnie told you Fixer called Megatron?"

"Yes, but since Starscream arrived, we assumed..."

"Think, Ratchet. With Starscream's track record, would you trust him with what the Decepticons see as their prize possessions? "He pushed himself up, "God, I hurt."

"Lie back down; we'll be at the camp soon. I'll pass the message to Prowl, who is in charge of camp security." Obeying the mechanical medic, Sam heard Ratchet communicate in Cybertronian to Ironhide and Prowl, and heard the curses before Ratchet signed off. "Optimus is leading the NEST team that is cleaning out the base."

"After Fixer." Sam stated it as a fact, not a guess. "There's something between them, isn't there, something major. " Once, Prime had come up in conversation between Megatron and Fixer while Sam was in earshot; the uncharacteristic hate in Fixer's voice told Sam all he wanted to know, especially added to what he knew Optimus would think of the spark research.

"Fixer did spark research on Cybertron, and went into forbidden research. It was exiled, with the ability to generate weapons and to have an alt mode destroyed. It was before the war, and Optimus was involved. "

"Just because Fixer doesn't have his weapons built in, doesn't mean there's no danger. Fixer's been studying humans. Human weapons can hurt you guys. Poppy gave Starscream one hell of lesson in that just now." Sam heard Ratchet communicating again and rested, a little less worried.

At the Decepticon base, Optimus listened to Ratchet, and signed off. For a moment the Prime was annoyed that Ratchet bothered to call; of course Sam was paranoid after being held here so long. Then Ratchet pointed out that with Sam and the sparklings gone, Fixer was cornered. Just as the communication ended, one of the generals came up. "This place is set up for traps," he said. "I'd like to send in some drones before we send in men."

Optimus agreed, and then paused. "Wait. Contact Captain Witwicky. We have a resource."

At the camp, Ronnie and Ironhide grabbed Bert and hauled to the base; Poppy went to Ratchet and then went to recruit Bumblebee for help. Sam came out and started to shiver in the cool air. He looked so tired that Poppy lent him a gratefully received shoulder to lean on. They watched as Bumblebee caught the sparklings as they got out one by one. The little ones wriggled, squealed and clicked while Ratchet transformed. Sam told them that once they got maintenance, they might be able to look around. One tried to slip away from Bumblebee, who almost panicked.

Sam managed to frown. "Stop that," he said, and the sparkling subsided, whining. Ratchet took over and herded the little ones firmly into the infirmary, Bumblebee helping. Jimmie and Minnie came running over. After allowing a few moments of sentiment, Poppy herded her father into the infirmary as well, sending Jimmie for the essentials they had brought for Sam and Minnie for food. The tent was large enough to accommodate the Cybertronians, and soon Bumblebee came in, looking relieved and settled down on the floor. Sam went to sit against his guardian's leg. "Ready to say you told me so?" Sam asked.

"Consider it said," Bumblebee told him, and Sam could see his guardian's relief. Did Bumblebee really think Sam would blame him, he wondered? "Do they ever stop?" the bot added plaintively, as they could hear one of the sparklings squeal.

"Yes, but not for long," Sam sighed. As they talked, Poppy came over to slide on a blood pressure cuff, before she gagged him with a thermometer. "Is all this really necessary, Poppy?" he grumped when she took it away.

"Yes," Ratchet said, coming in. When Sam and Bumblebee looked into the next room, the medic added, "I put the sparklings into stasis for now, both for maintenance, and for their safety. "

"Shouldn't you be dealing with casualties?" Sam asked, irritated. He wanted a very long, very hot shower without fear of being interrupted and something to eat that was at least relatively fresh. He did not want to answer questions, and he knew they were coming.

"I am," the medic said, "now would you prefer for me or Poppy to examine you?"

James and Minnie appeared just then. Ratchet deferred the exam to let Sam eat, while Poppy and Bumblebee told about the rescue. The sandwiches disappeared in short order. Sam drank the soft drink more slowly. When Sam was finished, he elected to have James remain with him. Everyone else was chased out. Jimmie kept his hand on his father's shoulder, which helped Sam endure the scan. A young male medic came in, and Sam recognized Jeremy from the clinic. While Ratchet remained in the room, Jeremy did the rest of the physical exam that needed hands-on, talking easily about how Minnie got the idea of searching the message boards and other Internet sites about news of giant robot sightings, and the results. Jimmie quoted several of the more interesting or hilarious sightings, winning a smile from Sam several times. Jeremy watched Sam carefully. Having done the physical on his rescued patient before the first download, he could see several scars that had not been there before; he could see that Sam had lost weight, but not enough to be truly concerned about. It did not take a rocket scientist to see that Sam was exhausted, and had almost no reserves of energy left. When he was finished, he stepped back and sent James with Sam to the nearest shower before talking to Ratchet.

Sam returned from the long shower feeling much better. The change of clothes helped, though he needed a belt and the shirt hung a little. Jimmie talked randomly. He could see the strain in his father, and the small talk seemed to help a little. On the way back, he saw the sleeve slid up and expose the band-like mark on Sam, and he touched it. Sam met his eyes, and said," When we get back." Jimmie nodded. Back in the room Sam settled into the bed gratefully. Bumblebee was back, and Sam smiled at him. Poppy and Jimmie sat on the bed, and Jimmie touched Sam's wrist again, with a look that asked the question for him.

"That was in the first few days," Sam told them. He started talking slowly, telling about the ride in, about the room, and about the first interrogation. "Megatron never called me anything but 'pet'," he admitted. Poppy hissed. "I'll confess," he added, "that my main problem with the food was that I had to do my own cooking." All of them groaned, including the bot. "They had the new lie detector. I can tell Dr. Spencer that it works very, very well. The first time they talked to me, they had me sitting on it without knowing it. They didn't ask about anything important. Part of it was making sure that I was the one they wanted-Fixer was sure that I couldn't be, that I looked too young. They talked to me until I lied, and the machine went off. They wanted to know if it worked. " He closed his eyes, and then told, slowly, about the second session, and the shocks, and the lack of sleep. None of them said anything, letting him talk at his own rate; at some point, he discovered that both children had taken one of his hands, and he found that comforting. When he stopped, there was quiet.

"I don't think I could have survived that with a mind left," Jimmie said. Sam looked at him, and suddenly they were clinging to each other. Jimmie felt hot tears on his shoulder, and wept his own as silently. Relieved that the first meltdown had gone as well has it did, Poppy slipped out, and returned with steaming cups of herbal tea. By the time she was back, Sam was asleep with Jimmie sitting by him. She noticed Bumblebee was communicating very quietly with someone in the Cybertronian language. She put Sam's drink where he could get to it, and handed Jimmie another. They sipped quietly for a time. Jimmie elected to take the first shift, and Poppy went to get some sleep.

At the Decepticon base, Bert had drawn a rough map, and while a drone crawled, told them where it was. The general and Sam were right. The base was riddled with traps. There were no troops left- they had boiled out and into the NEST set up and were dealt with quickly- but Fixer had not been found yet. In the end, they set up several drones and began taking out the traps, letting them explode, one after another. After several hours, the base in pieces, but there was no Fixer. Warily, the bots moved in, while some of the NEST human forces began moving out, looking for other possible smuggler outlets. Ronnie and Bert had been sleeping in Ironhide while the drones were working, but Ronnie woke and went with Ironhide and a team to the back door. The team was impressed by the fried troop. Starscream was gone. Ironhide was not surprised, but that bothered Ronnie. They sent another drone down and then called Optimus. They had found Fixer. Almost as soon as they called, there was the sound of an explosion and the roar of an outraged Prime. Less than an hour later Ironhide called the base. Optimus was hurt, not enough to keep him from getting to the base on his own power, but badly enough that Ironhide wanted to get him to Ratchet as soon as possible. "Tell Sam, " the weapons specialist added, "that Fixer is no longer a problem. "

Then all of them heard the sound of a jet overhead, heading not for the base, but for the camp. Almost as soon an urgent call came from Prowl that there were more troops heading for the camp, more than twice what they had already defeated. Megatron had already sent a message that if the Decepticon leader did not get his pet and his sparklings back, it would destroy everything living in the camp. Optimus was already on his way before anyone had time to react.

The sound of a jet jerked Sam out of his sleep. For a moment he did not know where he was; then he saw Bumblebee and Poppy, and remembered. Bumblebee was gone before Sam sat up. Just then Minnie came flying in, terrified. Sam simply sat up and held out his arms and she flew into the comfort, sobbing out her news. He assessed himself when she went from sobbing out news to simply crying, and found that he was almost completely recovered. It was dark, and he must have slept for hours. Poppy slipped out while Sam was calming his granddaughter, and returned with a syringe. With a quick movement, she used it. Sam fell back. "Stay with him," Poppy ordered her niece, who had fallen with him, and rushed out. Sam sat back up and settled Minnie onto the bed comfortably, covering her completely with the blanket. "Sorry, baby," he whispered, and went to check on the sparklings. Ratchet had rushed out with Bumblebee. Sam came out of the infirmary tent to see the camp in chaos as defenses were tightened. It was dark now, but he could dimly see the lights reflect off of metal as troops approached. Minnie had been at the communication center and told him what was going on in the rush of her terror.

He could see Optimus, on one knee, in the front. Megatron was not yet close enough to confront. He headed for his friend, already feeling the detachment he had felt the day he confronted Starscream. This time, he knew what it was. He knew what he intended to do. He managed to slip through the lines without being seen until it was too late. He heard the sounds of dismay behind him. Optimus did not turn. Sam came up behind the Prime and spoke quickly.

Megatron saw Sam appear beside Optimus. So, the Decepticon leader wondered, did his pet intend to surrender, or to beg for protection from its brother? It did not matter, as Optimus collapsed as soon as the pet reached the fool. The pet leaned on it, as if mourning, but as he did, Megatron saw that knowing or not, the pet put them all at an impasse. He was standing in the middle of what would be the battlefield if either side started shooting. No Cybertronian of either side wanted the holder of the All-Spark hurt. Persuasion would have to come first, before risk.

"Come here, pet," the Decepticon leader ordered.

The NEST team came up behind the circle of troops quietly. There were only humans left, as the bots had outdistanced them and were now at the camp. When he saw what was going on, Ronnie cursed. Poppy had told him Dad was asleep in the infirmary with the baby bots, drugged out of his mind. How the hell did he get in the middle of the damned battlefield? He began to send his teams out where they could do some good; they had a fair amount of distance weapons they had not used. All of them were fired up and ready to fight their hearts out. They did not like hearing a human called 'pet' any more than Ronnie Witwicky did, and by God the Decepticons would regret that.

"I don't think so," Sam said. Behind him he could hear dismay. He had to stall. The power running through him hurt, but at this slow rate he could talk around it. He could hear the troops stir uneasily.

"Do you need another lesson in obedience?" Megaton asked, "One lasting longer than three days this time?" That got a definite response, as Sam flinched. It also got a angry murmur from the other side, humans and bots alike.

"Did I last that long?" Sam asked, amazed. "I didn't know. What an incentive to walk over there."

Why the hell is Dad smarting off at Megatron? Ronnie wondered. If it took three steps, it would have Dad in its hands. Why was it yelling at him instead of doing just that? Behind him, he heard one of his men say, "I don't know whether he's got guts or he's plain crazy," with an answering murmur by the rest of the men.

"And how much more fighting over you does there need to be?" his 'owner' sneered.

"None," Sam said calmly. "Go away and leave me alone. " He could see Starscream in the mass of troops. It did not seem to be in good shape, though all the pieces were back in place.

"So more can die?" Megatron was surprised that the pet had not given in yet. He had to know that with Optimus dead, there was no one left who could stand against Megatron for any length of time. Why else would he be here by Optimus, in the middle of the fighting field.

"Not enough if Starscream's not dead yet. It's harder to kill than a cockroach." There was at first silence, and Sam wondered if all of them were accessing the internet to find out what a roach was, before Starscream snarled and there was a sudden sound of cannons being aimed. Starscream had aimed at Sam, and the rest of the Cybertronians of both sides let it know that this was not acceptable behavior. Megatron barked an order and the troops stood down. Starscream glowered but obeyed as well.

"If you come to me, and I get my sparklings, this ends now," Megatron said, spacing his words. " You will leave your friends-" it spat the word, " alive, and there will be no punishment. " That was grudging, and the pet had to know it, but he also knew that his owner had kept his word before.

Behind Sam, Bumblebee and Ironhide looked at each other in dismay. That was an offer Sam might accept, with Optimus dead beside him and his family here. On the surface, it was true that Megatron would leave, to take Sam and the sparklings away, but in time, likely a short time, the Autobots would be doomed. Any neutral or wavering allies would go over to Megatron, who had the Cube, even if human, and had sparklings. The bots would die fighting. None of them could challenge Megatron and win. Ratchet, however, was looking at Sam and Optimus. Why would Sam lean against Optimus like that, unless...

"Ironhide, Prowl," the medic said, "When the Prime gets up, we need to be ready to fight. " They turned amazed optics on him. "Look." The word passed and hope rose in the lines.

It's done, Sam thought. He hurt everywhere, but triumph flowed through him. He sighed and let his head and shoulders droop, as if he was going to give in. "Given the choice, " and there was rude laughter from the field he faced. They had no intention of giving him a real choice, just an easier one. "Given a choice, " he repeated, not having to fake the exhaustion in his voice, "I prefer to die with my friends." He lifted his hands from the Prime and stepped back, almost falling. Megatron moved, reaching for his pet.

"Now!" Ronnie yelled, and the shooting began.

Optimus's sword rammed into Megatron just below the arm, as the enraged, fully healed bot tore into his rival while around him the bots charged. Ratchet grabbed Sam and handed him back to Poppy and Jimmie before wading into the fight. Chaos ruled, but the advantage was on the Autobot's side, as Optimus led the fighting against troops decimated by the NEST team and demoralized by the loss of their leader, who lay crumbled on the field. The NEST team retreated to safety as soon as their weapons were spent, but by that time the battle's result was not in doubt.

Optimus came into the camp infirmary to see Sam sitting up and arguing with Poppy about getting up. He had somehow managed to get hold of normal clothes. "For Heaven's sake, Poppy, let me get out of these four walls before I go nuts," he was whining. "I've spent weeks being cooped up. I want to go outside, or at least somewhere else."

"Dad," Poppy said, exasperated, "you couldn't move without hurting yesterday, and then you slept so hard I thought you were in a coma! You need to take it easy for a few days! Beside, the babies might come after you again. Last time Jimmie had to read to them for almost an hour until Ratchet could come in and get them out. "She saw where Sam was looking. "Hi, Optimus. As you can see, Dad is better. "

"I knew that when I heard him complaining," Optimus assured her. Sam made a rude noise. "We have the little ones in a safe play area now, Sam, would you like to see them?" Sam moved out of the bed slowly. "I'll watch him, Poppy. "

"I'll get you a coat, " she said, and found one for him as he moved to his friend. Optimus picked Sam up and carried him out to the play area, which was outside. There were several bots who were watching the sparklings play with what anyone could come up with as toys. Right now a metal canister of some kind was being rolled around and chased. Finding an empty spot, Optimus put Sam down and transformed, opening a door in silent demand. Sam sighed and climbed in with resignation. The heat came on. Sam sat, then gave in to his lingering fatigue and lay back on the seat. He could still see the little ones.

Before Optimus could speak, Sam said, "I've been chewed out by Ronnie, Poppy, Ironhide, Ratchet, Prowl, and anyone else who cared to come in the damn room and speak up. Bumblebee was worse; he sat and watched me for hours looking too damned guilty for words. Please don't start."

"As your very reckless actions did save all of us, I will not. We will be taking you home tomorrow, as the medics think you will be able to travel. However, I want your report in private. "Pleasantly surprised, Sam began to talk. Optimus occasionally asked a question, but for the most part listened. Then, carefully, the Prime asked about the subjects Sam avoided. "Is the melding complete?"

"No," Sam said, amazed at what a relief it was to talk about the presence freely. "Neither of us wants that. If it completes, I won't be in charge at all, and all of us know that's not good. Besides, "Sam groped for words, "while we both know the download is needed, Optimus, neither of us are in a hurry. When it's finished, I'm going to die." For a moment, both of them considered that blunt statement, already suspected but never stated. "If it wanted that, it could have jumped to the proto-Cube on that first session. Instead it communicated with me, gave me the kick in the pants Mikaela would have if she was around. It wanted to stop the melding by transferring the energy to something else. Before too much longer, there's be enough energy transferred that it can go there if something happens to me even if I'm not close by, and we can all stop worrying about that part of the problem. "

"Good. Sam, tell me more about the sparklings. You did not go into much detail."

Sam winced. "I told you about the interrogation. " Optimus agreed. "The melding hurt worse. If I understand right, when it did the melding, it had to work on the Spark first, and essentially start fresh, wipe the personality. It wasn't fair to Wheelie and the Twins, but what could we do? It was that or let them go back to being random energy. "

"Did you choose, Sam?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, Optimus, I know I was going to give you more trouble when the word came out, but I couldn't just let those sparks die. It's not the sparklings' fault. "

There was a revving of the engine, Optimus' sigh. "Good. When Fixer was on Cybertron, someone else made that decision, and let them go. I could not stop it, but I always felt that was unfair, as well. "They watched as the sparklings started to fight, and one of the bots-Ironhide, Sam saw- broke them apart and distracted them.

"I didn't intend to bring them, they followed us," Sam said eventually, "but I have to admit I'm glad. The troops and Fixer had no earthly idea how to raise them; most the time they dumped them on me because I was the only one with a clue. "

"We had Bumblebee." Sam grinned. He had more tease material for his guardian. "Ratchet says you did not do too badly with the little ones, but that they are spoiled." Damned with faint praise, Sam thought, not really resentful. "I have to ask, Sam. Can you make more sparklings?"

"No," Sam said, half glad and half regretful. "I'm sorry, Optimus, we would if we could, but it would kill me. I can't handle the energy needed. Fixer had everything set up, it just had to have that touch from the All-Spark, and that almost killed me. I'm told I have damage to my nerves already, because we've had to use that energy too much lately." He sighed. "I had no idea how lucky I was with you and the others," he said angrily. "To Megatron, to all of _them_, I was no more than a valuable object. You were on the battlefield, you saw. Something to be treasured, to be kept and taken care of, put away, used carefully, but never, ever respected as a _person, _never given choices. "He felt the tears start and moved so he was lying down, because he could not stop them and he did not want to be seen weeping. Optimus started up and drove away, giving Sam privacy. The movement soothed him enough to go on. " One of the troops, one of the idiots, said it, that you were a fool to let me wander around like any other human, that I was too important for that, and they were building me a new _pen, _where they could keep a better watch on me. And I never knew, never, when someone might show up with the proto-Cube and kill me, with the only good thing being that it would be quick, because if it wasn't, the presence would defend us. And that might kill me too. "He hit the seat. "They had no right to do that to me! To us! No right!" Now, in the sunlight pouring in the windows, in the safety of his friend, he could rage, could stop trying to be normal for his family, and could weep freely.

"No, "Optimus said, "they did not. But your Sector Seven did not have the right to use the Cube or Megatron or Bumblebee as they did either. It is not just my species, Sam. "

That was what Sam needed to hear, and he calmed and wiped at his face with his sleeve. "No. I know that. But it hurt. It hurt worse than the electric shock and the lack of sleep and the melding. It _hurt_."

"I am sorry, my friend."

"Don't be, you didn't do anything. I wanted to blame somebody, but for heaven's sake, we were five miles from the base, I had all those precautions, I had Bee. We did everything possible. I'd been there before, Steelman was gone, and we didn't know he was back or really what he- it was, then. "The human meld sighed unhappily.

"I know. I went over everything with Bumblebee time and again, and so did Poppy. We did take every precaution we could without completely restricting your movement. Jimmie told Ironhide once that we ran your life, but Sam, we did not mean to do that."

"You let me have a life. You and the others did protect me, for all these years. Twice we manifested, once because I needed saving, and once because I asked, for Bumblebee. In sixty years, that's how much better you protected me. " Sam stopped, letting the tears come and feeling better with every word. "I chose to work with you."

"And with those choices, you repaid that protection over and over, with the energon, with working day and night to ensure that we could fight without enduring the resentment of your governments, and to get us what we needed to survive. We worked together, and together we've protected this world and our races. "Optimus said, dreading what it knew it would have to say soon.

Sam said it first. "The thing is, I'm going to have to be around people and you guys for a while. I don't know if we might be dangerous until we know we're safe and stop being jumpy. We're going to have to stay on the base. I think starting the download again will settle us back down, let the energy go where it needs to be, but that might take a while. I can't go back to what I was, Optimus. I can't risk being taken again. I can't go back to being a pet in a pen, ever. I want the download to start again so I can die if I need to, because I will before I'm taken again. I mean it. " The pain and the determination in Sam's voice was more than enough to convince Optimus that Sam meant what he said.

"I do understand, Sam. Everything can be arranged. We have managed in your absence. Abigail and Minnie will want your help, however. They have told me they are drowning in work." Sam saw that they were returning to the infirmary, and was grateful. The short trip had left him worn out.

"I didn't say I'd completely hide in a corner, Optimus, I just want to be careful." Optimus was relieved. A Sam that could argue was one that would recover.

"How long will the download take, Sam?"

"At the rate we were going, which is the best we can manage, it'll be another ten to twenty years. "

Optimus was satisfied with that. Anything could happen in a few decades. "Which reminds me. I want to know about Minnie."

"Later, Optimus. Promise. We have plenty of time. "


End file.
